


The World Has Changed... And The Gods Make Movies

by Dreaten



Series: Greeks and Dwarves [1]
Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Actors being stupid, Filming, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Ian is awesome, M/M, Slight AU - Characters, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 165,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreaten/pseuds/Dreaten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to find a missing Goddess, the Greek Gods turn to one of the best stories ever written: The Hobbit. The problem? None of them really know what they're doing. So when Hermes thinks that baiting the Goddess with handsome actors will work, Zeus and the rest of the Gods agree.</p><p>But how do Aidan and Dean feel about being used as bait?</p><p>And given the insanity the Hobbit Cast is capable of, is anybody actually bothering to look for the Goddess?<br/>___________________________</p><p>Featuring Ian McKellen as Zeus, Peter Jackson as Hermes, and many more.<br/>Warning: First chapter is slow and full of exposition. Sorry. It picks up, I promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lights.... Camera... Wait for it.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter presents his idea...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you W.D. for editing and being my beta! You are awesome!
> 
> This chapter is incredibly slow and focuses on the 'why' they're looking. My apologies for anything you may find either boring or inappropriate, but the rest of the story is not like that.  
> Also, Athena herself is not the main focus of the story. Rather, the search for her is. The Goddess won't be turning up for a long while.
> 
> Certain actors are Greek Gods, reborn again and again. For ease of reading, here's a cheat sheet:  
> Ian McKellen - Zeus - King of the Gods, God of an extensive array but most commonly seen are weather, lightning, sky, and keeping the others in order.  
> Patrick Stewart - Poseidon - Brother to Zeus, God of the seas, waters, horses, and earthquakes.  
> Christopher Lee - Hyperion - God of watchfulness, and the stars and sun.  
> Martin Freeman - Apollo - First son of Zeus, God of healing, prophecy, music, and poetry.  
> Peter Jackson - Hermes - Son of Zeus, God of messages, borders, travel, and transitions.  
> Fran Walsh - Hecate - Wife of Hermes, Goddess of protection, magic, witchcraft, crossroads, and associated with keys or torches. She was usually a household protector.  
> James Nesbitt - Iapetus - God of mortality, sometimes associated with creation.  
> Graham McTavish - Prometheus - Son of Iapetus, God of creation, legends say created humankind from clay. Also stole fire from Zeus to give to humanity.  
> Mark Hadlow - Gelos - God of laughter and joy

People think that all clandestine meetings take place in the backroom of hidden pubs, or in tunnels underneath train tracks. Perhaps even in the safety of the home of one of the participants, carefully scanned for bugs and locked up safe and tight.

This one didn’t.

This one started out in a park in Gloucester. Quiet, dull Gloucester. An old man sat on a park bench with a sandwich, merrily feeding the crusts to the pigeons. He hated crusts. And Sir Ian McKellen could throw away bits and pieces of his sandwich if he damn well pleased to; he was old, and nobody was going to stop him.

Sometimes being old could be fun. When you were old you could throw a tantrum, and people would run to fix whatever it was. When you were a child and threw a tantrum, everyone just tried to make you behave. He knew this for a fact. He’d been a child so very, very many times. He’d been old the same number of times. But being old always felt longer than childhood, for some reason. He would be born, he’d grow, he’d die. And reset. Over and over. He thought on how much the world had changed in thousands of years, idly wondering if he had changed. Probably. You couldn’t go through all those lives without having it change you a little. Over time…. Well, with the number of lives they’d been through, there had to be some change. He’d seen it in all the others.

He was eventually joined by two of the so-called others. Peter Jackson and Fran Walsh. He’d missed them. They joined him on the park bench with a friendly nod.

"Ian, nice to see you made it. How have you been?" Peter asked.

"Fine. Cold. But fine." Ian grinned. "Just finished lunch."

"Cold?" Fran laughed. "It's freezing."

"I am sorry, whose idea was this, again?" Ian smirked. Fran gave him a weak smile and a wink.

Another man showed up; this one fairly short, with a dapper appearance and a slightly nervous look to him. That would be Martin Freeman. Always looking nervous, even when he wasn’t. Ian could never figure out why. Even if someone overheard, they were more likely to be thrown into the loony bin than arrested for conspiracy.

Though many of them HAD been through the loony bin a few times in previous lives, or burnt at the stake. There’d been a few more incidents that had been more gruesome than that. Hence the reason for a clandestine meeting. Still, in the twenty-first century, more people were likely to ignore them than actually do anything. The wonders of the technological age: Don’t worry about the crazy people in real life, the people online were even crazier.

Martin and Peter hugged like brothers – which they had been, originally. Well, half-brothers, anyway. Martin gave a hug to Fran before taking a seat on the grass.

The last to arrive was a man who was slowly going from brown to gray in the hair department. Hyperactive and talkative, Simon Pegg arrived with a flourish and didn’t stop talking about his trip from his latest set, to the park, until he had finished the entire damn story. Nobody really cared that Simon had to deal with six red lights and one crazy pedestrian. Or what he had for lunch. Or that he was sure the set’s mascot iguana could escape her terrarium. Simon told them anyway.

By the time Simon had wound down his story, he noticed that no-one else had arrived. “Where’s Patrick? Jimmy? Graham? Mark? Not even Christopher's here, he usually turns up for this crap, doesn't he?"

Ian managed to keep his eyes from rolling. “Yes, well, not everyone could make it here. Patrick and Christopher are not feeling well, they won’t be coming. You have to remember, we’re getting towards the end of this particular lifespan. We’re not spring chickens anymore. You’d best remember this when you’re hitting this part of your life and we’re the young ones gallivanting about.”

“We’re not exactly young, either, Ian. We’re getting up there.” Fran sighed. “Jimmy couldn’t manage to get here. He and his wife are having issues, he’s trying to make it up to her by spending time with her and the girls."

“Graham and Mark had prior commitments. I’ve already given them the details.” Peter explained.

Simon settled on a square of grass next to Martin and made a half-hearted attempt to pickpocket him. Martin smacked his hand away before laughing and Simon joined him, gleefully giggling. Ian was never sure how that relationship had gotten so friendly over the centuries – more proof of the changes, as it were. Not that the friendship was a bad one. Martin had eventually learned to loosen up and Simon had toned down many of his more disturbing behaviors over the past thousand years or so.

“And those details would be…?” Martin smirked. “What are you thinking this time?” Peter was a genius, absolute genius, and he always had new ways to do something. This would be interesting.

Peter looked down at his shoes for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Athena.”

A sharp inhalation of breath came from Ian, Martin, and Simon. Athena. The missing one, the one who almost never found her way back on her own in each life.The problem child. And a child she would be, at least compared to the rest of them. She would have been reborn sometime between 1978 and 1985. A seven year gap of possibilities. They’d had trouble finding her before, but this time it had been outright ridiculous. The last time they’d missed her and she’d gone past her ‘copulation window’, it had ended badly.

“We’ve already tried to look for her current incarnation,” Martin argued. “I mean, what else can we do? We can’t go around asking women if they’re the reincarnation of the Goddess Athena. I’ve already been beheaded once, I really don’t want to do that again.”

Simon snickered. “At worst you’ll get slapped. What’s your problem with being slapped by a lady, eh Apollo?”

“The problem, Dionysus, is that I don’t like getting slapped. The idea of going around asking door to door isn't exactly what I’d call efficient, either.” Martin mumbled before throwing a tuft of pulled up grass at Simon. “And my wife would probably divorce me if she found out about it. Have you been smoking again? I thought you quit that ages ago.” He didn’t mean tobacco.

Simon frowned at that. “I’ve been clean for a long time. No drugs this time around. I mean, it WAS an overdose that killed me that last time. Me, the God of Distractions, getting killed by an overdose, it was a little bit of a wake-up call. Oh, and I’ve kicked alcohol this lifetime. Go me!” He pumped his fist in the air.

Ian smiled at his son. Hopefully, the habits wouldn’t re-emerge in this life or the next. Dionysus could only be good for so long. A wave of his hand brought everyone’s attention back up to him. “You’re right, Martin. We have tried lots of things. We've been sure to get involved in all of her favorite media from her past incarnation. Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, Hitchhiker’s Guide-“

“And zombies! I did zombies!” Simon grinned.

Peter choked down a laugh. “Night of the Living Dead terrified her, Simon. She only watched it because you wanted to.”

A nod came from Fran “You realize she had a blanket that she threw over her head whenever the scary bits came on during that movie, right?”

Simon stared at the grass and sulked. “I thought she liked zombies.” Martin patted him on the shoulder and gave him a friendly smile.

“The point of the matter remains, she still hasn’t surfaced. I mean, she should have. We all agreed, last go around, to enter the movie industry.” Peter sighed. “She should have remembered that much, at least.”

Ian gave a small nod. “I am sure she does remember. The problem with Athena, the same problem Athena has always had, is that she second-guesses herself. Look at all of us! Dionysus, Simon, you believe whatever your heart shows you. Apollo, Martin, you know your visions to be true, and they guide you back. Hermes and Hecate, Peter and Fran, you have always known the memories to be messages from past selves. And me, the Great Zeus, well, there’s no chance that I would ever second-guess myself on this. All the others, both inside our group and outside it, we all listen to our souls. Athena. Does. Not. She never has. She is logic. She is strategy. And if her mind is telling her that she is the reincarnation of a Goddess from a long-dead civilization, logic would dictate, at least to her, that she’s going crazy.

"Over and over again, we go through this. She believes herself to be daydreaming, and that she needs to seat herself into reality. She doesn't realize that her memories, her daydreams, ARE the reality. She pushes them aside. She forgets. She knows she should have joined the movie industry, that we all made that pact, but she seems to have forgotten.” Ian sighed. “My daughter has always been the smartest of us all, and yet that is her downfall. Peter is right, we can't let her wander. We all know what happens if she does not… find someone. And she won’t, not on her own.”

“Virgin Goddess my arse, she’s just as bad as the rest of us.” Simon agreed. “No sex for too long and we go ‘boom’.”

Fran shook her head. “Athena’s never paid too much attention to her hormones, it’s not a priority to her. But then WE'RE left to deal with the unfortunate side effect of the energy buildup.”

“I’m worried. By my reckoning of the math, she should be far enough into her incarnation that she should have snapped once already, even if she was born at the end of the potential range. We all remember what happened the last time she let that energy build up. I’m surprised they could identify the bodies.” Peter agreed. “We’re getting at desperate times, here.”

“What if she’s found someone? I mean, she hasn’t gone crazy yet – well, that we know of. She could have found someone and is perfectly fine.” Martin shrugged. "She's always preferred mortals."

Ian wished so badly for Martin to be right. It would be wonderful, if Athena had taken care of the problem by herself. But Athena never focused on finding someone, even if mortals were her cup of tea. She was always too damn busy. Too much to do to worry about a husband. “That’s happened a dozen times in how many thousands of years? How many times has chosen a mortal that was completely unsuitable? More often than not, she leaves that mortal. She has no common sense when it comes to men, that's why we step in.” Ian sighed.

Simon leaned over to Martin and whispered, "Remember her Katherine the Great lifetime?" Martin nodded, his eyes wide.

Ian continued, oblivious to his sons. "If it weren't for the energy build up, I wouldn't be worried, but..."

“The others could have found her. Aphrodite, Hephaestus, Aries, Hypnos, Hera?" Martin countered.

“She’s never sided with that lot and she never will.” Ian growled. “She's too damn smart for that. They would try to brainwash her, and she’d be out of there in an instant.”

“She could still wind up brainwashed if a man’s involved.” Simon pointed out. “But I’ve got ears on Aphrodite, there’s been nothing on Athena or any Athena-esque personalities. No favoritism showed towards any assistants that has Athena’s traits. If they were to get a hold of her, they’d have to keep her very close in order to keep control. They’re scared of her.”

“Which means she’s still loose somewhere.” Ian sighed. “We tried all of her favorite things from her last life to attract her attention, and no response.”

“There’s one left,” Peter frowned.

Surely he didn’t mean… the public had been clamoring for it, but Peter had backed down from that project. He said he didn’t want to do another major set of films like that, especially with the failure of Athena not popping up the last time. All that effort for nothing. Well, a great deal of profit had been involved – Hermes had always been spectacular at telling a tale – but no Athena, the main point of the project. He wouldn’t try again, would he?

“The Hobbit.” Fran nodded.

“We’ve pushed for the green light on it. We still haven’t gotten it, but we’re running out of time. The longer we wait, the more likely Athena will either blow her top or wind up in the hands of unsavory Gods, possibly dead at their hands. You remember what happened to Artemis.” Peter frowned at that. “We’ve got to get Athena to come out of the woodwork, you said so yourself not even a year ago, Ian. Tolkien was her favorite, out of all the books that came out during her last life, she loved his the most. Maybe, just maybe she was too young during Lord of the Rings. We’ve got a seven-year window of reincarnation. She could have been too young to realise the connection and passed off the thoughts as daydreams. I know she loved X-men, and Star Trek, and Hitchhiker’s Guide, but Tolkien was her absolute favorite. Well, that and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie.”

Ian frowned. “Peter, you’ve started work on The Hobbit, haven’t you?”

“Pre-production," Peter nodded.

"Sets, concept art for costumes, sorting through casting possibilities, securing land for scenes, the like. We’re using our own money until it’s green-lighted.” Fran added.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to handle another major production like that?” Simon asked.

“I’m not,” Peter answered. “Guillermo Del Toro’s agreed to direct it. I like the way he works, he should do fairly well, I think.” He shook his head. “I know what I said, but time is running out. And frankly, I hate to leave a story unfinished. Ian, would you mind returning for The Hobbit?”

Ian nodded, giving Peter a wan smile.“I am honored for my son to be asking that of me,” Ian said. “Just as I was the first time.”

Peter grinned back. Then, taking a careful look at his father, he realized that Zeus, no, Ian was looking worn. He didn’t have much time left. They’d better make the most of it. Zeus almost never took the full seven years to reincarnate, but any reincarnation would be hard on their group. Zeus always returned of his own volition, contacting them as soon as he was able to. But this time, until he turned eighteen and was of legal age, he likely wouldn’t be able to spend any time with them. It wasn’t like five hundred years ago when they could just ‘kidnap’ him as soon as he contacted them. Police were vicious things when it came to kidnapping children, reincarnated God or not. It was going to be more difficult this time around. Peter wasn’t even sure he’d be alive in this body when Zeus would be able to rejoin them. By that time he may be restarting his own new life.

Zeus was the one person everyone could count on, the one who brought them together as soon as possible. The harbour to keep them safe and the lighthouse to warn of danger, all rolled up in one. What would happen if he couldn’t get back to them right away? The idea was terrifying. They all knew it.

Peter shook himself out of his thoughts. “Martin, you haven’t been in any of my projects. What do you say? I think you’d make the perfect Bilbo.”

Martin gave as much of a bow as he could from the grass. “As my brother asks me, I will do so. Sounds like a fucking blast.”

“Simon,” Simon perked up at Peter calling his name, “I’m not sure you want to head down to New Zealand for that long. I have a role you may like – Bombur..."

“Nope, I’m good.” Simon held up his hands. “I’ve got too much going on. God of Distractions and all that, I’ve got a bunch of projects in different stages. Sorry. No hard feelings?”

“None at all.”

Ian coughed. “I take it Mark and Graham are on board with this project?”

“And Jimmy. We’ve got a number of minor Gods and an Egyptian for non-acting roles. Oh, and several Maori that we befriended.” Fran nodded.

“If I may ask, how can we be sure she’ll fall for this? We’re low on time and just because it’s a story she loves, that doesn’t mean she’ll come looking. We can put out feelers to all the entertainment papers, in hopes that she'll see it, but there's a good chance she won't. She may have even been reincarnated somewhere with very little outside influence. The chances of a Greek descendant being somewhere like that is slim, but our blood has been spread very thinly. She could very well be anywhere. Look at the lot of us.” Ian said.

Peter squirmed down in his seat for a moment. Fran nudged at him and whispered something in his ear. “Yes, yes, I know. It’s the best I can come up with, though.” Peter whispered back. The three remaining Gods leaned in closer. Nobody said they couldn’t be nosy when required. “I’m planning to cheat a bit.”

“Cheat?” Simon frowned. “That’s my job. Well, sort of.”

“Not like that,” Fran rolled her eyes. “We’re going to bait her with the big-screen. We did it last time, but that was just a gummy worm on a hook. We’re putting out a ten-course meal this time.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at that. This was beginning to sound… interesting.

********************************

Over a year later…

Fran found her husband Peter in one of the conference rooms, his head on his arms on the table. Ian and James sat in chairs across from him, looking tired and frustrated. Dozens of photographs littered the table, along with an equally impressive stack of folders off to the side. Ever since Guillermo had been forced to leave the project due to the time it was taking for the studio to finally green-light the project officially, Peter’s health was looking worse and worse. He’d taken on the director’s position, along with everything else he’d worked on for the films. Worry crossed her features for a moment before she schooled them. “What have you idiots done now?”

“It wasn’t us,” Peter’s mumbled voice came from his arms.

“For once,” James added. “Usually it is, but not this time.”

“Jimmy,” Peter groaned.

“Hm?”

“For once in your life, please shut up.”

“That wasn’t nice,” Ian chided, only half serious.

Peter raised his head for moment. “Fuck nice.”

“Actually, I’m with Peter.” James sighed. “I say tell that investor to go fuck himself.”

Fran slid into a chair and wished the closest coffee machine hadn’t died a horrible death earlier in the week. Peter looked like he could use it. Too bad she couldn’t make things appear out of thin air. James, on the other hand….. “Jimmy, I think Peter needs coffee. Do you mind?” Fran asked gently.

“Peter needs whiskey, not coffee.” Peter grumbled, head still in his arms.

“I second that motion,” Ian raised a tired hand.

James gave Fran a tired smile. “I’ll spike it.” He closed his eyes for a moment, wiggled his fingers – which wasn’t necessary but he loved doing anyway – and three mugs of steaming coffee appeared on the table. “Should be okay. It’s black, didn’t know what you like in it. Well, except for a bit of, ah, bite.” He picked up one mug and sipped from it. “Oh, hot. Overdid it on that. May want to let it cool. Sorry.”

“Iapetus, I would call you a godsend, but I know better.” Ian took a mug for himself and blew on it. Screw etiquette, he was old, he was a God, and he had a headache.

“You’re welcome,” James nodded.

“So, what’s wrong?” Fran leaned over and lifted her husband’s head off the table. He came unwillingly, with little photographs sticking to his arms he sat up. She shoved the coffee at him and moved some of the photos away from the potential splash zone.

“There’s this kid, Rob Kazinsky. His agent apparently knows someone who knows one of our biggest investors. They’re throwing a fit for him to have a role. A large one. They’re threatening to back out and blackball some of our cast and crew.”

“They want him as one of the Dwarves. Really, they were pushing for Bilbo, but that’s not going to happen.” James added. “Martin’s made for that role, and he’s got enough steam behind him that they’ve backed down on that.”

“He’s too young for most of the roles. Closest we’ve got is Kili, Fili, and Ori. And they won’t settle for Ori, no, not good enough. It’s got to be one of the ‘Princes’.” Peter groaned, then took a sip of the coffee. “Tasty, but way too hot… you’re off track today.”

“Tired and annoyed makes for overly hot coffee. Deal.”

Fran looked through some of the photographs on the table. “I thought you had Kili planned about before that boy even auditioned. Which you’re lucky he did, by the way, even if he did have his little heart set on being an Elf.” She remembered watching that audition. Aidan Turner nervously bouncing from topic to topic, reading the lines with too much expression for an Elf, and looking more and more animated as the interview went on before deflating like a balloon when Peter asked if he’d ever read the books. Handsome little thing, if not a little hyper. Hopefully Athena would agree.

“I may have made a call to his agent to get him to audition,” Ian smirked a bit.

“So, we’re stuck with Kazinsky as Fili, then?” Fran asked.

“Rob is not RIGHT for the role. He can’t pull it off, he’s not what we need for Athena’s attention. His look is wrong for the character, and hence, my movie. He’ll probably turn Athena off to it, which doesn’t help our case with her.” Peter groaned. “I’ve got one I want for Fili! Martin agreed that he’s perfect - visions and all. Really, if we want to be honest, Hercules has been working on this kid for over a decade as a candidate for Athena. Problem is, there may be some scheduling issues, which is partially our own fault.”

What a mess. Fran looked down at the coffee. “I think we’ll need more than just a spike of whiskey.”

“Don’t care, too tired to do that again.” James groaned. “You have NO idea what goes into conjuring something as complex as coffee, do you?”

“Tell you what, I’ll make you a protection charm. How does a waterproof charm on that horrid coat you love sound?” Fran offered. “I put one on Peter’s Chitty Chitty Bang Bang car some months back, it apparently makes it dust-proof, too. It won’t get dirty as quickly, so it won’t need washing as often.”

“That’s more of a plus for us,” Ian grinned. “It will save our noses.”

“Sod off,” James grinned back.

“Point is,” Peter sighed, “we’re probably stuck with this Kazinsky kid. He’s very nearly too young for Athena, we’ve already got Aidan to cover that age range, and he can’t carry the role they want him to.”

Fran kissed her husband on the top of his head. “We’ll work it out. We always do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I apologize if any of the Greek Gods are misrepresented, but my mythology texts are still in boxes somewhere in my house, and I'm going off of memory. Also, please note that different interpretations of several of the Gods exist, based upon different classical texts - Homer is not the only one who wrote about the Gods. The information I have included is a bit of a mash-up. Historically speaking, stories always change as they're told and retold; so I've taken bits from several sources.
> 
> Also, I am aware that the actors may be a little out of character, as they are real people and this is a work of fiction. I also have no claim to the actors/director/writer, the characters they portray, or The Hobbit in general. I would very much like to have claim to Aidan Turner and Dean O'Gorman, but that just isn't going to happen.
> 
> No Graham, Mark, Aidan, or Dean yet, but they'll pop up soon enough.


	2. Gods are not good at secrets.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what happens when the bait finds out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to W.D. for editing and being a beta. I owe you lots of fabric to quilt with. Or creme cakes.
> 
> Certain actors are Greek Gods, reborn again and again. For ease of reading, here's a cheat sheet:  
> Ian McKellen - Zeus - King of the Gods, god of an extensive array but most commonly seen are weather, lightning, sky, and keeping the others in order.  
> Martin Freeman - Apollo - First son of Zeus, god of healing, prophecy, music, and poetry.  
> Peter Jackson - Hermes - Son of Zeus, god of messages, borders, travel, and transitions.  
> Fran Walsh - Hecate - Wife of Hermes, goddess of protection, magic, witchcraft, crossroads, and associated with keys or torches. She was usually a household protector.  
> James Nesbitt - Iapetus - God of mortality, sometimes associated with creation.  
> Graham McTavish - Prometheus - Son of Iapetus, god of creation, legends say created humankind from clay. Also stole fire from Zeus to give to humanity.  
> Mark Hadlow - Gelos - God of laughter and joy

During pre-filming Dwarf Camp.

Graham grinned from his seat on the stacked mats. “Kid’s got spunk. Either that or a lot of sugar in his system.” He watched as Aidan Turner swung a wooden sword at poor Adam Brown, not nearly using the right footing or holds. Adam blocked twice before falling over onto the mats and laughing, followed quickly by Aidan. The two lay there for a couple minutes, laughing and picking at each other about how terrible they were at this ‘dwarf fighting stuff’. “It’s like watching a five-year-old.”

Mark huffed from his seat next to Graham. “Not that bad. We’re just up there. Few thousand years makes everyone seem young. It’s refreshing, really.” He arched his back and heard it pop. “Then again, I’m not quite sure I can remember feeling this old in any life.”

Graham laughed. “You say that every go-around. Every time you still have at least another ten years after you say it. Think the kid can pull it off?”

“Hm? The role or Peter’s plan for Athena?”

“Both.”

“Peter’s got faith in his acting abilities, and he’s always been a great judge of that. I’ll put money down that the lad can play the role. As for the plan, well, it’ll be mostly luck if it works. He’s got the character for it, but so did young mister Bloom, and that didn’t work out either.” Mark stretched his leg out from the mats, fussing over a bruise on his shin. “Peter’s plan was for two, you know. Instead of just one pretty boy, two with freer reign over the characters and close enough friends to be shield-mates. Or was going to, rather. That other one threw a wrench in it, and if Pete’s going to be fair to them, he’s going to have to treat them the same...”

“Rob wasn’t the plan, was he?” Graham turned a bit to see Rob in another section of the gym, hitting a punching bag like it had attacked his mother.

“Doubt it. He’s too abrasive, and he doesn’t get along with Aidan very well. And he doesn’t laugh. Well, not with his eyes, anyway. That’s what counts." Mark looked down at the papers in Graham's hands. "The script was written for another actor to play Fili; they already had one in mind. Fran and Philippa’s been rewriting it in order to cut Rob’s screen time. Lucky Peter didn’t have all his cards on the two of them, he was planning for little dots of pretty-boy here and there for Athena, but he wanted Fili and Kili to be his Royal Flush, and this has really hit him hard. Anyway, Peter’s asked you to keep an eye on them, I take it?” He glanced over at his friend, the same soul who had been his friend for centuries.

Graham nodded. “Who better to play babysitter? It helps that they think I’m big and scary.”

“Pish-tosh. Let them get around you for more than five minutes and they’ll know you’re a pushover. Always have been.”

“I’ve been trying the strong and silent technique. It’s working.”

Mark laughed. “For now.”

Aidan sprang up from his seat and gave Adam a hand up. They wandered over to Aidan’s gym bag, where he produced something wrapped in cellophane, covered in chocolate, and suspiciously high in calories. One for himself, one for Adam. Graham sighed, half laughing. “That would be more sugar. I’m going to have to talk to Peter about getting something more healthy for snacks around here. That lad could eat his weight in junk food, and he's teaching it to Adam.. Excuse me.” Graham pushed himself off the mats and stormed over to the two, griping about bad food and how eating right should be part of their contract and they should be ashamed of themselves for sneaking junk food in. He confiscated the sweets and lectured on healthy food until both Aidan and Adam’s eyes had glazed over.

Graham returned, candy in hand. As he and Mark left the gymnasium, he quietly handed his friend one of the confiscated chocolate bars and unwrapped the other for himself. Mark couldn’t stop laughing

***************************

Filming the Unexpected Party…

Ian took a seat in his tent, head in his hands and trying to keep the tears from coming... He couldn’t do this. He was Zeus, and was an extremely accomplished actor, but the green screen version of Bag End was just too much. It was... lonely. Frustrating. He had imagined, this being the first time he had Martin with him on any set, that he’d get a chance to do a lot of play with the characters, spend some fun time with his son. And with Mark, Peter, James, and Graham, he was certain it would be spectacularly fun. But being isolated in the green screen Bag End, it just wasn’t going to happen.

He knew they were trying. Martin would come talk to him while the Dwarves were in the air-conditioning tent. Peter sent him texts, and the other three would stop by his set as often as possible. It just wasn’t enough. Even now, Martin was hashing something out with Peter while the Dwarves tried to cool off enough to do the next series of takes. That left Ian all alone.

He sunk down further in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Which was why he didn’t see the youngest Dwarf poke his head in. “Mister McKellen? Sorry, Sir Mister McKellen?” Ian bolted upright in his chair and glared at the Dwarf who had invaded his tent.

The lad had brown hair and dark eyes, set off by a costume of blues and browns. He had some of the least amount of prosthetics. That, coupled with the lean figure they were going for, meant that he didn’t have a lot of extra weight on him. He’d probably cooled off enough and was wandering the sets. “What do you want?” That came out harsher than Ian had meant it. Oh, well. It wasn’t like the youngster would want to deal with him, anyway.

“I’m Aidan. Turner. Sorry.” He looked down at the ground nervously. "You know, Kili. From the script-reading."

Ah, yes, the bait for Athena. He was harder to recognize without the curls. It was too bad that Rob had come in to play Fili; they now had to pin a great deal of hope on this boy. Peter was already inadvertently putting pressure onto the lad, if Fran’s stories were true. “I see. Either come in or get out.”

Aidan glanced around outside, then quietly slid into the tent. “I was listening to some of the others, and they said you weren’t yourself. They said you didn’t like being alone. They’re still cooling off, so I came to see you.” Aidan smiled and gave him a 'puppy' look. "I can go, if you want me to." He motioned toward the tent door.

Ian's heart softened. Brave little thing, wandering into a senior actor’s place of rest and inviting himself in for no other reason than to talk, even he was a bit shy with it. “Don’t bother leaving,” Ian fussed at him. “They’ll think I threw you out.”

There weren’t any other chairs, so Aidan took a seat on the floor. “Graham, that’s the big guy who’s Dwalin, he was worried about you being alone.”

“So you took it upon yourself to visit?” Ian raised an eyebrow.

“As soon as they cool down, we’ll be back shooting. I cool down faster, so, yeah, I came to visit.” Aidan shrugged.

“You came to visit an old man that you have nothing in common with.” Ian felt a smile tug on his lips. “Because someone else made an offhand comment.” This young one was certainly something else, possibly even good enough for Athena.

“That sounds stupid, huh?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps we should find some common ground. What do you know of history?” Ian asked.

“Not my best subject. You could tell me about it, though!” Aidan finally looked cheerful at that. “I mean, I’m not saying you’re old, but you asked, so I assume you know a lot of it.”

The boy really had no idea what he was dealing with. “I’ll tell you a story, then.” Ian leaned back in his chair. “How does something from the Renaissance sound?” Aidan gave him a non-committal shrug. “All right, then.” Ian thought back to Da Vinci and his inventions, perhaps the boy would like to know about the genius’s attempts to create a flying machine.

Twenty minutes later, Aidan was called back to the set, having heard all about the ornithopter, the glider, the strange helicopter, and the parachute Da Vinci had created schematics for. Ian gave the young man a grin and a wave as he left. For such a troublemaker, young Aidan certainly had cheered him up.

Aidan, for his part, came back to the set practically bouncing. Not only had Sir Ian (though the man kept insisting on just Ian) not thrown him out, he’d been practically friendly! The Irishman nervously bounced about until Graham asked him what was wrong with him. “I went to go see Sir Ian, since you said he was alone. He was really nice.” Aidan looked thoughtful. “We should do something so he won’t feel so alone.” Graham merely shook his head and told Aidan to get back to work.

That evening, after Mark, Martin, Graham, James and Peter had gotten together, Graham brought up the young actor’s suggestion. After much debate, they decided that the Head of the Thrones of Olympus needed something to make him feel more at home. Peter loved it. He dragged them all to an old storeroom and rummaged through the items there.

The next morning, Ian found his tent mysteriously decorated in Rivendell props from the Lord of the Rings. For the first time in days, he laughed.

He was even more surprised when Aidan showed up in between shots again, this time saying that Peter told him to ‘go bother the wizard’ when he’d finished cooling off and was wandering the set.

His family had not forgotten him after all.

 

********************************

 

“You people are fucking insane!”

Ian had to duck out the way, grabbing Aidan and pulling him back, when the hallway door swung open with such force that it nearly shattered the glass in the tiny window. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you’re all psycho!” Rob shouted back at the hall he’d just vacated. “Insane, crazy, psycho! What the hell kind of people BELIEVES that kind of crap?”

Ian winced. Those were words he’d heard before. Not exact, but they had been followed by torches and pitchforks in the past. Those words were never good. Even worse with Aidan here, too. Poor, innocent Aidan who had no idea what was going on around him…

“You know what, I QUIT. Rip up the contract, I don’t fucking care! I’d rather leave this job than deal with you psychos!” Rob screamed. He finally noticed Ian and Aidan off to the side, Ian looking pensive and Aidan staring at him with wide eyes. “You’ll quit, too, when you find out who these psychos think they are.” He turned on his heel and stormed off.

It was several moments after Rob was out of sight that Ian and Aidan dared breathe again. “What the bloody hell was that all about, y’reckon?” Aidan asked.

Ian winced. “I have a good idea.” There were two alternatives: either Rob had finally thought so highly of himself that he had tried to push Peter into something and Peter had pushed back, or Rob had heard a conversation never meant for mortal ears. Option one was bad. Option two was catastrophic. “You’d better go. We can talk about those fortresses later, I have a book on it somewhere. I’ll bring it to you.”

Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “Not stupid, you know.” He flashed back to a grin. “I want to know what’s going on, come on, let’s go have a look. This is much more interesting than old castles. Not that they aren’t interesting, because they’re awesome, but…” He pushed the door open. “those aren’t going anywhere.” Before Ian could stop him, Aidan pushed his way into the hall and was checking the rooms to see if anyone was in there.

So much for keeping the mortals out of the loop. Graham was right, that kid ate too much sugar.

Aidan found what he was looking for three doors into the hallway. Inside sat Peter, James, Martin, and Mark, all looking grim. A notebook sat on the table in front of Peter, chock full of scribbling that Aidan couldn’t read. Not English or Irish, then. A few symbols littered the page, but they didn’t mean anything to Aidan, either. Martin had a similar notebook, this one all in the same language, but no symbols.

“What’cha doing’?” Aidan put on his ‘I’m adorable’ face, which only never worked on his mother. It had gotten him out of a few parking tickets and into a few bars. Very effective tool, that was.

James looked even more upset. “Not you too.”

“Not me too what?”

Ian came up behind Aidan, time for damage control. “Aidan and I were in the entry when Rob nearly killed us with a door and then said he was leaving the project. May I inquire as to what is going on?”

Mark flashed a glance at Aidan before looking back at Ian. “Rob... overheard a conversation.”

Ah, option two, then. Ian mentally swore in every language he knew, which was extensive, given the amount of time he’d had to practice. “I see. A conversation about a young lady?”

Peter grunted. “That would be it.”

“Young lady? Who?” Aidan looked back and forth between Ian and Peter. The puppy look was back.

“Nobody, lad.” James sighed. Aidan raised an eyebrow at that. “She’s probably older than you, now that I think about it.” Aidan frowned. Probably? Someone either was or wasn’t a certain age. How could you not be sure? Ages were sort of… definitive, weren’t they?

Martin rubbed his temples. “I had a... bit of a fit last night. We’re just going over the details. Anything could be important.”

Martin’s visions. He could filter out most of the visions that didn’t have any bearing on events in his life, but certain things hit him like a ton of bricks. Major world events, natural disasters, and anything to do with the Gods. When one of the Greek Gods, some of the Egyptian Gods, and one particular Norse God did something new or strange, Martin got to see it. Even Aphrodite, and she was his least favourite.

Martin had a lot of visions.

But visions of Athena were rare.

Athena liked method. She liked things to stay the same, and whenever things changed, she either found a way to change it back, or fought it tooth and nail before eventually accepting the inevitable and then changed her method. Without a method, Athena did not function. It was why she always sent the heroes on their quests, but didn’t go herself. It was why she could plan a massive and effective strike against an army, but had trouble fending off a pack of bandits. Predictability. Method. Strategy. And Martin only had visions when something changed. This was his first vision of her in nearly eight years, and the last one hadn’t been helpful.

The windows of the room darkened a bit, and within moments, rain splashed down upon them. Seconds later it became a deluge. Thunder cracked and lightning lit the room in brief flashes. Ian took a deep breath. ‘Calm down. It doesn’t mean she’s going to be hurt. Martin’s visions could be of good things, it’s a change, not a tragedy that brings them’. The others, aside from young Aidan, make a quick glance outside and then back at Ian. Ian waved them off, but he knew they didn’t buy it.

“Epilepsy?” Aidan guessed. For a mortal, he was a very bright thing. Hyper, childish, but bright. Ian could see why Peter was so keen on the boy. Not that Aidan was a boy, but compared to the rest of them… Still, it didn’t matter. Ian couldn’t have chosen better for Athena himself.

Martin winced. “Sort of. It's something I have no control over and it makes me unresponsive. Nothing to worry about. It never happens on set. Usually when I’m reading or resting, thank the Gods.” That earned quick smiles from the rest of the room. “You lot know what I meant. Shut it."

Aidan blinked at them, confused, and pulled up a chair for himself and Ian. “What was Rob angry about? He was shouting that you were all mad, or something. Who’s the bird?”

Peter, Ian, Martin, and James all glanced at each other. Poor kid, he didn’t ask to be brought into this insanity. He was just supposed to be a tool, to attract attention. Show him off a bit, prove that he had brains to go with that smile and courage to back both of those up – everything Athena liked. Then reel her in. It would make Aidan’s career and get Athena back with those who cared about her the most – her family. Sort of family. Old family.

Peter had already made plans because of Rob’s interference, trying to mitigate the damage the actor had unwittingly caused. Richard had been the choice for Thorin to begin with, but even Ian agreed he would likely be a little too old to attract Athena’s attention in such a compulsory manner. Fran had written Legolas back into the script, hoping that a second shot would bring home the, er, Goddess. Lee Pace and Luke Evans had both been tapped; both of them were born right in the seven year range for Athena’s rebirth. Martin had talked Benedict Cumberbatch into coming into the project as Smaug – his status with the female population was on the rise, after all. Not to mention that Athena did enjoy Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s works in her last life, and Sherlock Holmes could work out as her ‘hero’ this time around just as well as Fili could. 

That, of course, is what Rob had heard: baiting the Goddess with heroes. From there, he’d listened in on the conversation. Athena, the concern over finding her, and the fact that Rob was poor bait for any Goddess. Oh, and the fact that they had wanted someone else for Fili. He hadn’t taken it well.

Would Aidan be any different? Humans were… difficult to predict on easy days. Let alone when you throw a wrench into their belief system.

Martin frowned down at the table. “We should tell him.” Apollo’s counsel was always to be truthful, but that didn’t mean it was what needed to be done. Aidan trusted them. Would he continue to do so if they told him the truth?

Ian looked down at the floor. He and Aidan had become friends, strange as it was. It just wasn't right, using him without his knowledge. “You, my dear boy, are the equivalent of a cream cake.” Ian calmly said. Decision made by the head honcho. No going back now.

“Sorry, WHAT?” Aidan made a strange face.

“You like cream cakes, pastries, other sweets, correct?” Ian asked. Aidan nodded. “But you don’t like all of them. Some you are more inclined to than others.” Another nod. “Imagine, if you will, that someone wanted you to go somewhere on set. You have your headphones on, again, and can’t hear them. But they wave a cream cake at you and you decide to see what kind it is, to see if it’s one you’d like. So you follow them.”

“Couldn’t they just, you know, take my headphones off? Or write it down?”

“It’s a thought experiment. Work with me.” Ian suppressed a laugh. “Wouldn't you follow someone who's baiting you with a cream cake?”

Aidan thought for a moment. “Depends. Do they look like a creepy stalker person? I mean, this sounds like something a pervert would do.”

Yes, it did sound like something a pervert would do. They were going to lose Aidan. They probably would have lost him anyway, once Rob told him what was going on. Ian gave the young actor a kind look. “I’ll admit, it sounds creepy. But imagine it’s someone you trust. Or someone you know you can trust, even if you haven’t met them before. Like… Like… A cousin you’ve seen in old photographs. Would you follow them?”

Aidan shrugged. “Probably.”

Martin interjected. “I’d probably do it to, so that says a lot about me. Actually, I did it. I followed something that was just an idea.”

Ian nodded. “In this project, my lad, that’s what you are. A cream cake.”

Aidan scrunched his nose for a moment. “Yeah, I know. I’m the heartthrob of the film. The weirdly handsome Dwarf. Nerdy girls will swoon over me, which would be really great. The swooning, I mean. I’m trying to figure out who you’ve tested this theory out on. I mean, I’m hot and all, but I think you’re overestimating me here.”

“Trust us, you’re perfect for it. But remember, you're not the only cream cake. There other flavors.” Peter chuckled. Aidan raised an eyebrow at that.

“It’s not all nerdy girls we’re after on this, lad. It’s just one.” James added.

“One?” Aidan parroted.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “The Hobbit is going to make money. No doubt. You’re going to catch the attention of a lot of women, that's true.” Aidan looked suspicious and a little nervous at that. “But that’s not the reason why you, in particular, are here. You have what we need. I saw you in Being Human, you’ve got talent. A lot of talent. You’re also clever. More clever than you give yourself credit for. You’ve got strength of character, and courage, which is rare nowadays. I know about the skydiving incident.” Peter gave James a glare at that. “You smile genuinely, and you’re approachable. That ticks all the boxes.”

Aidan didn’t ask ‘what boxes’. He thought about it, though. Ian beat him to the punch. “For a particular Goddess's attention.”

It made sense to Aidan, now. That would be why Rob was so creeped out. They were going to sacrifice him once the movie was shot. Claim he died in some sort of accident. Wait, no, that would get too much attention. Bad publicity for the film. “WHUT?” 

“Calm down,” James stood and stepped over to Aidan. He gave the lad a hard pat on the back. “Just listen. We’re looking for a particular Goddess. If we don’t find her, soon, and basically get her hooked up with someone, she’s going to wind up causing a lot of trouble.”

“How so?” Aidan wasn’t sure if all the blood was leaving his head to make him faint or rushing to it and making him turn red. He felt dizzy. Bait for a Goddess? A hookup? What the hell? He was a Goddess cream cake?

“Ever hear of Lizzie Borden?” Ian asked.

“No.”

“You might want to look that up. That was one of the times we didn’t get to her fast enough. We got her sorted, in the end, but it wasn’t pretty in the meantime. That was two incarnations ago. The last one, she had a car accident. Got hit by a drunk driver and pushed off a bridge into a river. She couldn’t get out of the car in time. Drowned. A terrible loss, she was younger than Peter is now.” Ian sighed.

“So, wait, this Goddess is reincarnated over and over?” Aidan frowned.

Martin tapped his knuckles on the table. “We all are.” Aidan’s eyebrows shot up like the arrows his character loved. “All of us Gods and Goddesses. Over and over and over. We never had a set form to begin with. Just reincarnated. It used to be much easier, so few people made it easier to find everyone. We all knew to get back to somewhere. Always agreed ahead of time.”

“Is there a hidden camera somewhere?” Aidan laughed. “Seriously, where is it?” He glanced at the corners of the room, and then checked behind the filing cabinet. "You guys are screwing with me. Is this going to be on one of those behind-the-scenes videos?"

“No hidden camera, Aidan. I am Zeus, God of Lightning and Storms, and Head of the Thrones of Olympus.” Ian stood straight and tall.

“No shit. I’m the King of the Faeries.”

“Aidan,” Peter sighed. Aidan turned to look at him. “Think about it. It wasn’t raining until we told Ian that Martin had another episode. And I’m willing to bet it’s only raining on the offices. I’m Hermes, God of Messages, Transitions and Boundaries, and a few other tidbits. Martin here is Apollo, God of several things including Healing, Truth, and Prophecy. His episodes are visions.”

“And they suck,” Martin added.

“I’m Iapetus,” James grinned.

“Gelos,” Mark added in.

Aidan nodded. “I know Zeus, and Hermes, and Apollo. Never heard of yours.” James’s grin vanished. 

“Why has nobody ever heard of me? God of Mortality? Craftsmanship? Making things? What about Mark, here? God of Laughter? No?”

“Sorry.”

“Damn.”

“Fran and Graham are Gods, too. Fran is Hecate and Graham is Prometheus. We’ve got a couple minor Gods in costuming, one is our head medic, a couple Maori as our helicopter pilot and a trainer, and one Egyptian God over in set design. There's Patrick Stewart, he's Poseidon. Oh, and Simon Pegg, he’s Dionysus.” Peter added.

James looked proud. “Took us the whole of the last century to finally keep him from getting pissed before noon. This time he’s kicked alcohol all together.”

“So, what, all the Gods make films?” Aidan looked skeptical.

“No, of course not. Far too many of us for that. Greeks are the top as far as power goes, but there are literally hundreds of other deities running around. Our little niche decided on movies when we realized they were the best method of communication over long distances. We all promised we’d get into the industry in the next incarnation. It’s worked out fairly well. Mostly Greeks, but as we've told you, there are a few others in our little gang.” Ian elaborated.

“Let me guess, Liv Tyler is Aphrodite.” Aidan grinned.

“Nope. Angelina Jolie. We’re still annoyed at her over a stunt she and Hera pulled in the third century BC. Haven’t talked to her in polite conversation since. She’s got a few others in her little group, but she has a lot less power than we do. Money, yes. Power… not so much.” Martin shrugged.

Ian coughed. “The problem we have is one Goddess in particular. You see, we all agree to meet up. We talk, we set the circumstances, and we remember them from incarnation to incarnation. Memories come back in childhood, and progress to encompass every single life we’ve led by the time we’re about twenty. We usually find each other relatively quickly. It helps if the others haven’t died yet. We remember who the people we dealt with last were. For instance, when I die, I will be reincarnated within seven years of that death. I will know to get in touch with Peter Jackson, Martin Freeman, Mark Hadlow, and maybe James Nesbitt.”

“Hey!” James scowled jokingly.

Ian grinned at James, then turned back to Aidan. “In turn, when they die, because I contacted them before, they will know what my name is. Let’s say I wind up Grant Wallitzer. They will know to find Grant Wallitzer when they are reincarnated. We keep our little circle up that way. Most of the time, it’s fairly smooth. We’ve hit a few bumps, lost a few in the mix, but there are enough of us that it’s rare.”

“But we have one Goddess that isn’t just a bump in the road,” Peter acknowledged. “She’s a downright pothole. A big one.”

“I don’t understand. If you all go looking for each other, then how is she a problem? Doesn’t she remember like you do?” Aidan asked.

“Oh, she remembers.” James nodded. “She remembers, but her power is all based in logic. And LOGIC screws her over every time.”

Ian nodded. “Logic says that this whole thing is insane. Greek Gods and reincarnations, only insane people believe in that. You heard Rob, and his reaction is... fairly normal. So, she thinks she’s imagining things. She doesn’t come looking for us like she should. She shoves it to the side, ignores her powers, goes about a mortal life. Athena. My daughter. My very precious and very... stubborn daughter.”

Aidan shrugged. “Sounds like she doesn’t really care about it.”

“But she should,” Peter said. “First of all, she’s got more sense than any of the rest of us. For instance, she could take this project and have it running with military precision in two weeks. Everything planned out and running smoothly. No idea how she does it. Frankly, we need her abilities. She’s a major asset.”

“And,” James added. “There’s the Lizzie Borden thing. You see, we Gods, we like sex. A lot. You should read up on it, it gets very interesting. Some Gods can keep it in their pants and only… Relax with their spouses. Martin and Peter can. Peter because he’s been married to Hecate for forever, and Martin because he would never do that. Despite what all the old stories say, he wouldn’t cheat on his beloved, as long as his beloved is alive. I’ve screwed up a couple times. Problem is, lad, is that sex actually releases power. Not that it’s bad, it’s actually good. A buildup of power causes our own powers to go wonky. And THAT’S the problem.”

“Athena is referred to as a virgin Goddess, which is actually incorrect.” Martin continued. “All of us need…. Someone at least every so often. If we don’t, we lose control.”

“Athena losing control is a big problem. Athena is called a virgin Goddess because she doesn’t really actively seek out a husband. Most of the time, we find one for her. If she doesn’t get that release of energy, her powers go haywire, and her logic goes out the window. She’s gone on a couple murdering sprees when we weren’t fast enough getting to her.” James continued. “She’s smart, and she just loses control. She could become the perfect serial killer.”

“That’s… terrifying.” Aidan looked pale. He sunk down into the seat a little further. A serial killer Goddess that they wanted him to be bait for? Not exactly comforting. His stomach churned and he wanted to leave. What would they do to him if he left? Rob had gotten out easily...

“Imagine having to clean up after and get her sanity back to her.” Ian frowned. “But now you understand the importance. She cannot be left to lose control. However, at this point in time, she could be anywhere from age thirty-three to age twenty-six, slightly younger than you. We still haven’t located her, and we’re concerned that she’s already lost it once and we haven’t found out about it. She could be sitting in prison, or she could have found a temporary lover to… satiate the need. She only needs to do it once. Problem is: she rarely stays with someone we haven’t chosen for her.”

“The lass likes mortals, plain and simple.” James continued. “BUT, she likes heroes. Heroes don’t really exist anymore, not in the same context. So we’ve got to find a replacement. Someone who has all the heroic traits and COULD have been a hero thousands of years ago. She likes the ones who are smart, too. The more clever, the better. BUT, she also doesn’t like liars. She needs someone she can trust. YOU fit the bill perfectly. You’ve got good looks, you’re approachable –ah, forgot, she’s usually incredibly shy when it comes to men, and she’s got some anxiety issues to go with that– and you’re smart. You talk honestly, well, unless you’ve been into something you weren’t supposed to, such as, uh, jumping out of planes. Sorry ‘bout that, Peter. My idea, really”

“We’ll talk later,” Peter shook his head.

James went on. “The point of the matter is: you’re the perfect bug light to her moth. You’re bait.”

Bug light? First he was a cream cake, now he's a bug light? “So, what exactly does this… entail?” Aidan looked around the room nervously.

“Attracting attention, mostly.” Peter said. “Look, we’re not expecting you and her to suddenly fall madly in love the moment you see each other. That would be… not in her character, first of all, and not fair to you. The plan was originally to have two of you, working together. She… Had a bit of a thing for men that fought together in battle. It made her feel safe, that they were safe, and less worried when they went off to fight the monsters or armies – two heroes who had each others' backs on the battlefield, making sure that at least one made it home with their shield instead of on it. Fili and Kili would be perfect for that, especially the ‘having each others' backs’ dynamic.

"The idea was for you and the actor who was going to play Fili. I had a very good idea of who I wanted, but I hadn’t talked to him yet. Then Rob’s agent came in and screwed up the plan. We’re trying to mitigate it, but it’ll be hard. Most of what we were hoping for were things that are so normal you’d never have noticed. Kili sticking together with Fili in almost every shot, them fighting together. A few extra public appearances, a few extra candid interviews, release of a lot more behind the scenes videos, the like. Fran’s looking into adding a love interest for your character to generate even more interest – maybe if Athena gets a good look at you in that role, it’ll attract her attention even more. The plan was just to get her here, somehow. Get her involved. Get her to come to us.” Peter explained

“So, bait. Really.” Aidan looked a bit relieved. They didn't expect him to get too close to the serial killer Goddess. That was good. “What if… I didn’t want that? Hypothetically.”

The elders in the room sagged their shoulders. Of course. Who would want to be bait for a shy Goddess who didn’t even believe she was a Goddess? Most of the time, when the bait found out, they ran. “If you want to leave the project, I understand.” Peter said dully.

Aidan rolled his eyes. “Not what I meant. Well, sort of. I’m not going to leave the project. Just sayin’, what if I meet her and I like her? You’re not gonna chase me off with a stick, are you?”

“No, absolutely not. But there is no expectation of….” Ian didn’t continue.

“I got that. What’ll you do if I don’t like her? You’re not going to ask me to…”

Ian laughed. “By all the Gods, no. You are under no obligation to date her, or do anything with her you don’t want to.” Aidan nodded, thinking.

“If you agree to this knowingly, we’re going to ask more of you. It may continue on past just the production and releases. Conventions, interviews, we’d ask you to attend and do more of them until we find her.” Peter said. Would this kid really agree to it? This was crazy. Few mortals ever agreed to be bait for Athena.

Maybe Aidan really was the rare gem he was looking for.

“Two things. One: Do I get paid more? I mean, money’s not the most important thing… but I’m just asking.” Aidan held up his hands.

“Tell you what, you help find Athena, and I’ll give you double what you made in this project.” Peter agreed.

“Deal.” Aidan grinned. “Two: Can you actually PROVE any of this?”

Ian sighed. “Aside from the rain outside? Peter and Martin’s abilities are invisible to the naked eye. Jimmy, would you mind?”

James nodded. “Pick something, kiddo.”

“What?”

“Name something. Nothing electronic. Or any books. Just… pick an item and name it.”

“Uhm… rubber duck.”

James closed his eyes for half a moment, wiggled his fingers, and a bright yellow rubber duck popped into existence on the table. “Anything else?”

Aidan blinked at the toy. “Leather jacket?” He broke out in a childish grin.

“Got a size in mind?” James rolled his eyes.

“My size.” James closed his eyes again, did the finger-wiggle again, and a moment later, Aidan had a leather jacket hanging off his shoulders. He put his arms through the sleeves. It fit. He laughed. This was mad! All of it. Totally mad! For a moment, he thought it could be fun. It could be interesting. As long as she didn't go serial-killer.

“Good enough for ya?” James grinned like bandit.

Aidan nodded. “Can I…think about this for a while.The whole bait thing. I'm still not sure if I’m…comfortable with it. “ Ian gave him a nod and a squeeze on the shoulder. “I mean, I’m not exactly…” Holy crap, he they wanted him to be bait for a Goddess. He idly wondered if his parents would think he was crazy if he called them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graham, Mark, and Aidan make their appearances!


	3. Finally, a proper Fili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the short chapter. There is more written, but my editor and I chose to end here because we are both very tired. W.D., you are awesome.
> 
> Ian McKellen - Zeus - King of the Gods, god of an extensive array but most commonly seen are weather, lightning, sky, and keeping the others in order.  
> Martin Freeman - Apollo - First son of Zeus, god of healing, prophecy, music, and poetry.  
> Peter Jackson - Hermes - Son of Zeus, god of messages, borders, travel, and transitions.  
> Fran Walsh - Hecate - Wife of Hermes, goddess of protection, magic, witchcraft, crossroads, and associated with keys or torches. She was usually a household protector.

Rob’s departure caused a tidal wave of panic in The Hobbit’s crew. Scenes were edited; some were shot without the proper Fili at all with hopes that nobody noticed there was a double instead. Peter’s ulcer threatened to come back, and Fran took to worrying about her husband a little too much.

They determined that Martin’s visions of Athena were of a move, somewhere in America. Road signs that he saw in the vision gave them some information, but it just wasn’t enough. The buildings were impossible to identify, and the closest thing they could get was that there was a blue house and lots of city noise. And boxes. Lots of boxes. And crying. Whatever reason Athena had to move, it was not a happy one.That made the Gods worry even more.

Despite all of the chaos and worry, the production had to continue. So, when Aidan was asked to head down to one of the offices, he happily obliged. He was apparently needed to read lines with someone who was being seriously looked at for the role of Fili, and as he walked down to the office, he prayed the other guy wasn't a twat.

He opened the door of the screening room and saw… a golden haired man, older than him, busily reading the papers over and over, his mouth moving as he went over the lines. Not half bad. “Hey. I’m ah, Aidan. Aidan Turner.” Then he giggled. Damn it all to hell he giggled. The bloke probably thought he was an idiot. Stupid outbursts. He could get a handle on them when on screen, why the hell couldn’t he fix it off screen? He supposed that was the ‘honesty’ James thought Athena would like. So far, no Goddess and one stranger who thought he was an idiot.

The other man glanced at him, startled. “Dean O’Gorman.” Then, he smiled, holding out a hand. “This is crazy, coming into the project like this. Sorry.”

“No problem, not your fault the other bloke left.” No, that would be the fault of a bunch of Greek Gods. Damn. Secrets were really hard to keep when they were that cool. Or that weird. Or both. Aidan shook the offered hand. “I play Fili.”

That earned him an odd look. “I’m reading lines for Fili…”

“Kili!” Aidan corrected himself quickly. Dean had to think he was an idiot. “Kili. I’m Kili. Yeah, Kili.”

Dean looked Aidan over with an expression Aidan couldn’t read. Then he burst out laughing. “Okay... Kili. You’re sure about that?”

“Yes, positive. Really. Kili.” Aidan was trying to very hard not to laugh.

“Whenever you’re ready, gentlemen.” Philippa motioned for the two of them to start.

“Ah, right. Audition. Shall we?” Dean fluttered the papers at Aidan and grinned. Aidan picked up his own papers and they took seats on the chairs.

Aidan grinned back. “Let’s go.”

 

******************

 

Peter and Fran watched the audition from a live feed in another room. “Martin was right. They’re getting on perfectly.” Peter nodded at the screen. “If they’ll ever stop acting like idiots around each other."

"That’s so adorable.” Fran grinned from her perch on the table and took a sip of tea. “They’re perfect together. It’s like they’ve known each other for years and are just getting back together again. They're almost acting like schoolboys.”

“Let’s hope that translates to brotherly love in the movie. I trust Martin’s visions, though. He said this one would be the best of the bunch, even before we brought Rob on. Not to mention that Kevin's been keeping an eye on this one for a while. Dean was great during the Bilbo audition, and he’s even better with Aidan there. I don’t even see a reason to call the others for an audition.” Peter grinned. “Shall we give him the good news?”

Fran smirked. “Let’s make him sweat a little.”

 

**********************

 

Dean couldn’t believe it. He was going to play a major role! He had actually dropped his mobile when Peter Jackson – Peter Jackson! – had called him personally to tell him that he’d be needed on set the next day for costume fittings. Sure, Philippa had called him to tell him the news, but Peter Jackson had followed up on it! He’d been forced to work out a deal with the Almighty Johnsons producers and director - they decided to work around the shooting of the Hobbit. They understood how big a deal this was. Bless the Kiwi film-makers, they didn’t act like morons.

So here he was, standing in front of Martin Freeman – Martin Freeman! – trying his damnedest to bow at the same time as Aidan. Or not laugh at the faces Martin was making (thankfully, Aidan was doing that more often than he was). Or to not fall over during the bow from the  weight of the costume. Or praying that he and Aidan wouldn’t forget their names... again. It was just impossible. He’d been tapped for one of the biggest movies in history and he couldn’t even bow properly. They were going to send him home, he just knew it. He’d only shot a couple scenes so far, it could be easily redone.

“All right, lads, take forty-seven.” Peter’s voice rang out over the studio.

Martin nodded. “Forty-seven, for luck.”

“Luck?” Aidan asked.

“Forty-seven is lucky for us. Always has been.” Martin said. “No, I don’t remember where it came from.” Aidan always came up with a million questions whenever they mentioned anything that could possibly be related to ‘God-stuff’, as Aidan called it. Martin thanked his lucky stars that Dean had no clue about the whole thing, and that Aidan had kept his mouth shut. For someone that could talk incessantly, Aidan could keep a secret.

“So, forty-seven. Let’s go.” Peter reminded. Martin nodded in agreement.

Dean took a deep breath as Martin closed and then re-opened the door. “Fili.”

“And Kili.”

“At your service,” Yes, they got that together! Now, bow, keeping balance, and back up. YES! Aidan allowed himself a smug grin and Dean let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. FINALLY!

“You must be mister Boggins!”

“No, you can’t come in here!” Martin moved to shut the door on them. “You’ve come to the wrong house!"

The rest of the scene went perfectly.

Dean nearly cried from joy.

After they’d settled down from the euphoria of finally getting that scene right, Dean found himself dragged to Ian’s trailer by Aidan. The Kiwi and the Irishman had been friends from first sight, and Dean was slowly getting to know the other actors - by Aidan dragging him from place to place. Aidan spent most of his spare time with the other young guns: Stephen and Adam; or, strangely enough, following Ian and James around. Graham and Mark were almost always keen to talk with the lads, and though Martin kept a keen eye on them and gave them hell, Aidan claimed that Martin made him feel nervous.

“Iaaaaan!” Aidan bounced into the trailer. He didn’t even bother to knock. “Ian, what’s forty-seven about?”

Ian looked up from his book. “I’d tell you to knock, but you don’t listen to me. Really, you should listen better. I happen to be-" He spotted Dean in the doorway and gave a slight pause. “Very tired right now. I happen to be tired. I am an old man, after all.”

Thunder rolled a bit in the distance, and Aidan winced a little. Odd, Dean didn’t think Aidan was afraid of storms. He’d watched Aidan run out into one just the other day, and when Dean had brought up the prospect of getting hit by lightning, Aidan had just laughed and said "They’d never let that happen to me!" Aidan was a very odd person. Fun, talkative, and entertaining, but odd.

“Sorry, Ian.” Aidan mumbled. “What’s forty-seven about? Martin mentioned it today.”

Ian grinned. Silly superstitions. “Let me see, forty-seven is a prime number, and holds a place in a few other primes or special numbers. Euclid did a number of proofs with the number – it was one of his favorites. As an atomic number, it’s silver. As an atomic weight, it’s titanium. Both precious metals. There’s a few other things, Joe Menosky fell in love with the number, put it into all the Star Trek he could get a hold of. J.J. Abrams put it into a few of his works, as well.”

“Never heard of the Euclid. Is Abrams…?” Aidan didn’t finish.

Ian shrugged. “A minor one.” Really, Ian knew that Aidan was curious, but he didn’t have to be so obvious with Dean around. “It is considered lucky for a number of people on this project. Peter and Martin have always taken it to heart the most. Now, what is the real reason why you decided to disturb an old man’s rest?”

Dean started to apologize and moved towards the door to drag Aidan out of there. Aidan and manners really didn’t go well together, and his puppy-eyes usually got him out of whatever trouble he’d get into. Puppy-eyes didn’t work on Ian. Still, Aidan refused to move. “Tell me a story." He crossed over and took a seat on the couch. "Tell us both a story.” Oh, dear God. Aidan couldn’t get more embarrassing. Dean felt himself turn red, all the way from his hairline to the tips of his toes. Aidan continued, “I was reading this book on mythology, and it said that Perseus had help from the Gods in his quest-thing. As someone who is well-versed in literature, I figure you know all about it. Tell us.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. Most of Perseus’s help had come from Athena. Could it be that Aidan was getting curious? He still hadn’t fully committed to being bait, but this was a step in the right direction. Ian set down his book. “It’s a long story.”

“Then we should be going, right Aidan?” Dean moved to the door again. Why the hell was Aidan bothering Ian - Sir Ian McKellen... Magneto... GANDALF! - about stupid stuff like Greek mythology? What was WRONG with him? Ian moved to grab Dean’s arm. The old man had more strength than Dean thought should have been possible. Thunder rumbled again. “No, Aidan is right. It’s a good story. One you both should hear. Classical literature tells us a great deal about the world – as it was, as it is, and as it may be again. Heroes have always had an important role in the world – be they Perseus or Professor X. Aidan, I have a box of cookies in the fridge, perhaps you’d like some?” Aidan jumped up from the couch and returned with his prize. “Not too many, you’ll get fat.”

“They’ll just stick me in the back, then.” Aidan grinned.

“That isn’t the plan, and you know it. Don’t eat too many of those.”

Plan? What plan was Ian talking about? Dean felt like everyone knew a secret that he didn’t. He was already the new actor on set; couldn’t they give him a break? Sometimes it felt like they were trying to include him, but then something would come up and he'd wind up being left out the loop again. Like just now.

“Have a seat and listen,” Ian told Dean. Dean slouched down onto the couch next to Aidan.

By the time Ian had finished the tale, Aidan had dropped off to sleep, leaning against Dean’s shoulder. What was left of the cookies lay forgotten on the floor. Dean had rolled his eyes when Aidan had dropped off to sleep against him, the Irishman could sleep anywhere. It was a well-known fact on set that if the Irishman wasn’t bouncing around, he was napping somewhere.

“How do you remember that whole thing?” Dean wondered.

“Practice. I’ve told it quite a lot in my years.” Ian grinned. “And it looks like I’ll have to tell the last part again when Aidan comes back from the land of Morpheus. It could be very important.”

“Land of Morpheus?” Dean asked.

“Morpheus is the God of Dreams,” Ian elaborated. He frowned at the boys. “You’re more responsible than Aidan, aren’t you?”

Dean shrugged, making Aidan stir and snuggle into him. “I’d like to think so, but not really. I just pretend I am. You know, acting.” He grinned. “I’ve seen him act responsible, too, you know.”

Ian nodded absently. “You two should look out for each other. You seem to compliment one another. Just enough similarities and just enough differences to create a balance.”

Dean blinked. What did that mean?

“You should be heading back to your own trailers, now. Get some rest. It’s late.” Ian made a shooing motion. “No more stories for at least a week. Make him knock first from now on.”

Dean nodded. He shoved at Aidan a bit, and the younger man blinked a few times and mumbled something rude. “We’ve got to get going. Ian needs sleep. You need real sleep.” He practically pushed Aidan out Ian’s door and guided him towards their trailers: two little home-away-from-homes right next to each other. Aidan’s door was locked. “Where’s your key?” But Aidan was still half-asleep, and though he checked his pockets, he didn’t find the key. After a few moments, Dean’s patience wore out. “Come on, you can kip on my couch.” He maneuvered Aidan towards his own door and brought him inside. Aidan slumped down on the couch and cuddled with the spare pillow Dean had put there for when he wanted to watch TV. Dean rolled his eyes. He didn’t think Aidan had actually woken up at all during the whole excursion. “Good night.” He flipped the lights off and went to his own bed.

 

******************

 

Aidan woke up to something warm. Warm was good. He liked warm. The warm thing was so very, very close, and he could just keep his arms around it and then...

It moved.

What the hell?

Aidan blinked his eyes open and stared at the warm thing he’d been holding. Normally, he snagged a pillow and cuddled it in his sleep. Warm, fluffy pillows were one of the best things to hug while asleep.

This wasn’t a pillow.

It was...

Oh, dear God.

Aidan pushed himself out of bed, scrambling backwards until he’d hit the wall with a loud ‘thump’. “Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, SHIT.”

This, of course, woke Dean up.

“What the?” Dean looked up, bleary-eyed, trying to find the source of the noise. It took him a few moments for his eyes to focus and see Aidan, still pressed against the wall like a deer caught in the headlights.

Aidan pointed at Dean. “I, ah, uhm. What’re you doing here? Why are you in my bed?"

"What?" Dean’s brain slowly started to work. He’d left Aidan on the couch last night, cuddled up with his spare pillow. Dean also recalled somewhere around 2am, Aidan wandered into the bedroom, demanded to know what Dean was doing in his trailer, and promptly told the other man to ‘shove over, if you got an issue, go back to your own place’. Since all the trailers were identical in floor plan, it wasn’t that much of stretch to realize that Aidan thought he’d fallen asleep on his own couch. Dean wasn’t about to give up his own bed, and Aidan was too out of it to argue with him. So, he’d shoved over and gone back to sleep with Aidan next to him.

Apparently, Aidan didn’t remember that.

“Hey, egg, this is my place. You lost your keys last night. We've got make up in…” Dean glanced a look at his clock. “An hour. You need to go find your keys. And shower.”

Aidan didn’t move. “Look, if I did anything stupid, or, or inappropriate, or something, I didn’t mean it! I was asleep and I have a habit of grabbing pillows when I’m asleep and… what the hell and I doing in your trailer to begin with?”

Did Aidan breathe at all during that? Because Dean was pretty sure he didn’t. “You lost your keys, they’re probably at Ian’s. You crashed here. I don’t give a damn about whatever you did while you were asleep. Go find your shit and let me sleep.” With that, Dean pulled the blanket over his head.

Aidan took the opportunity to run. He let himself out of Dean’s trailer and, ignoring the incredulous looks from some of his castmates who were already on their way to make-up, marched over to Ian’s trailer. The Irishman didn’t want to dwell on what his coworkers were thinking. “Ian!” He pounded on the door. “Ian, please wake up! I need to talk to you!”

The door swung open, and there stood Zeus, in a pair of old jeans, a red t-shirt that read ‘One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor’, and a mug of tea in his hand. “Ah, I was wondering when you’d turn up. Your keys fell into my couch last night. I almost stabbed myself with them this morning. Why didn’t you come back for them?” Ian reached over to a side table and produced the keys.

“Because I was out of it.” Aidan frowned. “I’m normally not that bad. Filming these long days is getting to me.”

Ian nodded. “I suppose you weren’t feeling well. Some cold medicine might help. I’d ask the medics for some, if I were you. You don’t want to start sneezing and coughing on set.”

Aidan nodded, then rushed off to his own trailer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes his appearance!


	4. Parties, Vampires, and Gods, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, it has come to my attention that an old version of this chapter was uploaded. I have fixed the errors.

A shower, a shave, some cold medicine, and an hour in make-up left Aidan was feeling less jittery. He and Dean worked on more pick-ups with Martin – shots that they filmed that had to be redone due to Rob’s absence. Aidan had some trouble with his mind racing and wouldn't speak to Dean outside of their lines, but Martin decided to quickly put an end to that.

“What’s going on?” Martin demanded as soon as they were off-camera and Dean was out of earshot. “Did you and Dean have some sort of fight? Because you’re not really working well with him today. You seemed to be best friends yesterday. Today I can’t even get you to laugh at me when I flip you off. Or make faces. Or do anything. You’re barely talking to him.”

Aidan frowned. “I just had a bad night’s sleep, that’s all. I might be coming down with something, too. I’ll be fine.” He promised. Martin made a face, but took him at his words. One problem with being a God of Truth – Martin knew when someone was lying. Unfortunately, he also knew he wasn't going to get any farther with this conversation today.

“Get some rest tonight, then.” Martin poked a finger into Aidan’s chest. “And stop avoiding Dean.”

“I will.” Aidan promised.

But he didn’t.

By lunchtime, James, Graham, Mark, Martin, Ian, Fran, and Peter were all seated in a conference room, food on the table and taking mouthfuls in between conversation.

“We’ve got a problem with our lads,” James said, shaking his head. “I dunno what’s happened, but they’re not talking.”

“It’s Aidan,” Martin said. “He says he’s not feeling well, but I think he may have possibly been lying to me.”

Ian sighed. “Of course he was lying. He spent last night at Dean’s. I don’t know what happened, but he was asleep for all of it, from what I can gather. They stopped by my trailer last night, he was out of it, didn’t even finish the cookies I gave them.”

Graham tried hard not to laugh. “With his sweet tooth? That’s a miracle. He must have been dead to the world.”

“Point is,” Peter brought the conversation back “they can’t keep up like this. We need them on good terms, we need them working together. Not just for Athena, but also for the movie.”

Mark nodded. “He’s right. They’re not going to attract her attention if they’re not talking to each other. She’ll pick up on any problems in their relationship right away, and she’ll get annoyed. She might even turned off from them all together. Gotta to play nice with her, you know. Plus, everyone who sees the movie will see it. Bad relationships make bad movies.”

“Dean could probably still pull it off, he’s got the experience. Aidan can’t. He’s a good actor, but his emotions can get the best of him. Even if he manages it, it’ll be several takes before he gets it right. You saw what happened with the doorway scene. Too much time spent is too much money spent.” James agreed.

Martin had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry, I was just trying to get Dean to be a little less nervous, and to get Aidan to stop being scared of me.” He looked down at his plate.

Graham nodded. “Aidan is a little nervous about your visions. I think he believes that if you get too close, you’ll start seeing what he’s up to.”

“Not the first time a mortal’s thought that,” Ian agreed. “I’ll talk to him about it. Now, how do we fix the boys?”

“Walk up to Aidan and tell him he won’t find Athena if he doesn’t start talking to Dean?” Mark suggested.

Fran smacked him in the arm. “That’ll scare him off and we don’t need another Rob incident. Technically, Aidan hasn’t fully committed to this… secondary project of ours.” The Goddess reminded them.

“He hasn’t run away, either. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t told anyone. Even Dean.” Peter said.

They all sat in silence for a few moments, taking bites of their lunches. None of them were sure what had transpired, and without knowing that, they couldn’t fix it. Martin’s visions only worked for the future, even if it was just a few minutes ahead, which didn’t help. He couldn’t cheat and see what would fix it, because nobody had decided what to do about it and the future still had too many possibilities. Fran was mostly useless in this case, none of her charms or spells could make someone be friends with someone they truly didn’t want to be. Ian could storm around all he liked and all he’d do is flash flood New Zealand or get something struck by lightning. James was useless with fixing things – since he was only craftsmanship and mortality (and the mortality bit was extremely not useful in most situations), and Mark was the God of Laughter, not the God of Making an Arsehole Behave Himself. Then there was Graham, who didn’t need to be reminded by his Godly father James that it was he, after all, who royally pissed off Zeus more than once by tricking him into things that were in the benefit of humankind.

Of course, Ian failed to remind James that he’d known all along what Prometheus had been up to and really didn’t give a damn about the whole thing. Where the ancient authors had come up with him chaining Prometheus to a rock thing was beyond him. It had been Cronus who did that, thank you very much.

“It falls in your court, Graham. Benefit to humanity. Getting Athena’s attention will benefit humanity because then she won’t murder anyone-“ James waved his fork at Graham.

“Unless she already has,” Mark added. "I can help, too. A little laughter goes a long way to easing the soul."

“Right, of course, Mark. But as far as Graham is concerned, if she hasn’t gone crazy, then getting her here will help humanity. We have to know where she is in order to get her here and happy, and they’re the bait. So… You two fix it.” James insisted

"I don’t think that logic is right,” Graham said before taking another mouth full of potato salad.

“It’s complete and utter bullshit, that’s what it is,” Martin muttered. Fran glared at him and he suddenly found his spaghetti very interesting.

“The boys probably need to work through this themselves. This happened overnight, it can’t be that big of a deal.” Fran argued. “It probably has something to do with a certain chatterbox being overtired. Which means he probably said something stupid.”

“Well, that’s normal for him, then.” Mark nodded. Peter and Martin nearly choked on their lunches from that.

 

*****************************

 

Graham and Mark found Dean sitting alone in the canteen when they went to return the trays. The young (compared to them, anyway) man had a book pulled out and was staring blankly at it. Graham noticed that Dean never turned the page. Silently, he cursed every God he knew – which was an extensive list – and barged over to the lad. “What’re you reading?”

“Hm?” Dean looked up at Graham. Another co-worker he hadn’t really spoken to by himself, and now this giant was standing over him asking questions. Where the hell was Aidan when you needed him? “Ah. This.” He flipped the book over so Graham could see the cover.

Mark came up behind Graham and nodded. “Interesting. It would be more interesting if you were actually reading it instead of staring off into space at it.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “I’m that obvious?” Graham nodded. “Sod it all.” He threw the book down.

This was looking worse than they’d thought. Graham and Mark slid into nearby chairs. “What’s wrong?” Mark asked.

Dean frowned. Here he was, on a project way too large for his portfolio, with actors who were leagues above him, and the only friend he’d really made so far had stopped talking to him. “It’s nothing, mate.”

“Let’s try this again.” Graham frowned. “What. Is. Wrong.” He leaned in and did his best to look domineering. It worked.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” Dean muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “It took forty-seven takes just to walk into that damn Hobbit hole. Forty-seven. Everyone’s already made friends and I’m the odd one out. I’m just sitting here waiting to be sent packing. Then when I thought maybe it would be all right, Aidan goes and loses his keys last night, winds up kipping at my place. Now he’s acting all weirded out, and he’s the only one who’s really talked to me! Well, except Ian, but Aidan made him. Well, and you, now. You probably think I’m some sort of crazy person with an anxiety disorder.”

Graham nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. “So, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I just said that.”

“Guess what. Neither do we.”

Dean blinked at Graham. “What?”

The Scotsman nodded. “Seriously, we’re winging it most of the time. You should have seen Richard his first week here. Oh, he puts on a good show, but he was so nervous it was unbelievable. Thought that there was no way in hell he could pull off Thorin, said he shouldn’t have gotten into acting to begin with. Martin, well, he’s never worked with so much green screen before. He keeps saying that he’ll never be able to do it. I can't remember the names of half the crew, and Stephen still can't remember who's Bofur and who's Bifur. So you know what we do?” Dean shook his head. “We do our best. We work together, we work with the crew, and we listen to Peter. We trust each other. We take our characters and make them our own, and run with it as best as we can. We were all nervous, even those of us who have old friendships with Peter and Fran. I think the only one who wasn’t was Ian.” Graham said. “And, forty-seven is a lucky number. Since it took you that many times to complete the first scene you’ll be shown in during in the movie, that’s good luck for you and Aidan. Now, if it had been forty-eight, I’d be worried.”

Dean gave him a look. “You people are really serious about that forty-seven thing, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes.” Mark nodded. “Completely. It’s really very good luck for the both of you. I wish forty-seven had popped up for me already. Still waiting for it. If forty-seven shows up, then you know it’ll go well. The earlier, the better. ‘Course, I know someone who made his own luck by adding forty-seven to everything he could. Still worked out well for him.” He clapped Dean on the back and grinned. Dean found himself giving Mark a weak grin back.

Graham nodded in agreement. “Since your forty-seven showed up this early, Peter knows you’re golden. It’s a sign, to him, to us, to you. A sign you’ll do well. Yours popped up the fastest because you’re worried about being new, I’ll bet. Not a chance you’ll be sent packing, not with that much luck behind you. Not to mention that I know for a fact that Peter and Fran had you more or less pegged for Fili before Rob showed up. There were just some... extenuating circumstances. I remember when those circumstances went out the window and Peter was just about praying that you’d be available. You should have been here from the start, it’s not your fault that you weren’t.”

Dean blinked at the giant, who didn’t seem nearly as frightening as he had two minutes ago. “Look, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to bull shit me.”

“We're not,” Graham pulled out his mobile. “Here, call Peter. Call Fran. Call Ian, or Martin, or Jimmy, they know it, too. They were there. Mark knows it, he and I just hadn’t been able to get down here at that time." Mark flashed a smile at Dean and nodded. "Simon Pegg probably knows about it, his autodial says ‘Dipshit’, though, if you’re looking to ask him. If you want proof of everyone having the jitters when they first came on board, Richard will tell you straight up what he was thinking those first few weeks.”

Mark never lost his smile. “As for your buddy, well, he'll get over it. He probably said something stupid and thinks you’re mad at him. He opens his mouth before he thinks, you know.”

“He didn’t say anything stupid. He didn’t DO anything stupid. He just fell asleep.” Dean didn’t mention that Aidan had thought it was his own trailer. After all, it really didn’t matter; Dean probably would’ve done the same thing, if their roles had been reversed.

“Did he sleep talk?”

“Not that I know of,” Dean shrugged. “If he did, he did it while I was in my bed and he was on the couch.”

“He might think he did,” Graham frowned. Aidan probably thought he’d spilled the beans on the whole thing about Athena. After all, Ian said that they’d been in his trailer, asking about the story of Perseus, which was directly related to Athena. It wasn’t a big jump to think that he’d talked about her in his sleep. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Now, we’re back on set in ten. Either read or put the damn book away.” Mark said.

Dean nodded and stood. His costume had gone askew while he’d been sitting, so he tugged it back into place a bit. Graham gave him a nod; then headed off. They had a group of Dwarves to talk to.

 

******************************

 

James had already rejoined the others in their rehearsal for one of the Rivendell scenes by the time Graham and Mark returned. Ian had come along, despite not being in the scene, and had herded poor Aidan with him. The young man was still unnervingly quiet.

Mark decided it was best to be blunt. “We need to throw a party.”

“A party?” Stephen grinned. “What kind of party?”

“Some sort of welcome party. For Dean.” Mark elaborated. Graham didn’t miss how Aidan shrunk a little at that. “We haven’t really initiated him yet. We should. He missed out on Dwarf Camp and hasn’t really talked to any of us.”

Even Ken couldn’t disagree with that. Mark got affirmatives from everyone involved. Adam wondered where he’d put that old face paint he’d used on everyone for the charity drive, Stephen was merrily planning alcohols, and Richard suggested that they each write down something embarrassing that happened to each of them during Dwarf Camp so they could read it to Dean. He figured that it might cheer Dean up and give him some memories of the Camp, even if he hadn’t been there to witness it. After all, the embarrassing bits had done more to bond them together than the parts that went smoothly.

As they made plans, Ian and Graham pulled Aidan aside. “So, what did you do that you’re hiding from Dean? Or did he do something that upset you?” Graham asked.

“Nothing! He didn’t do anything!” Aidan frowned.

“Then what did you do?” Ian asked. “Or say?”

“Dean says he didn’t hear you talk in your sleep, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Graham added.

“I don’t talk in my sleep,” Aidan frowned. "It's just..."

“Funny, because you usually don’t shut up otherwise.” Graham crossed his arms. “What was it? What did you do?”

“Who says I did anything?” Aidan said defensively.

“Says the fact that the only person Dean views on this set as his friend has suddenly stopped talking to him. Then there's fact that you were practically inseparable from the day he got here.” Graham argued. “So, out with it.”

Aidan kicked his dwarf boots a bit, looking down. “Look, I’m not…” He didn’t finish.

“Not what?” Ian pressed.

“I’m not gay, or anything. I like girls. A whole fucking lot. But…” Aidan shifted from one foot to the other.

“But what?” Graham wanted to pick the lad up and shake him.

“I don’t remember falling asleep last night. I know we were at Ian’s, and I think we left. There was something about trying to figure out where my keys were, but nothing after. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in Dean’s bed, thinking he’s my spare pillow. And…GOD… how embarrassing!”

“Dean said you slept on the couch,” Graham said.

“I don’t remember! I remember waking up and…”

“Cuddling Dean.” Ian finished with a smirk. Not a bad way to wake up, he mused.

Aidan balked. “I’m not gay. I swear.”

“Nobody said you were,” Ian’s smirk didn’t vanish. “Was Dean angry?”

"He wasn’t awake. I woke him up when I fell.” Aidan muttered.

“So…. He doesn’t know that you were cuddling him.” Graham was smirking now, too.

“No. Probably not. I don’t know... Bloody hell.” Aidan ran his hands through his wig. Ian pulled Aidan’s hands out of the wig before he do much damage. “Let me get this straight. You fell asleep on Dean’s couch, according to him. You wound up wandering into his room and his bed, at which point he probably should have woken up, but he didn't. You then decided in your sleep that he was a pillow and hugged him sometime before you, and he, woke up.” He looked over Aidan's wig and stared at Aidan in the eyes. “Did Dean say anything about it?”

Aidan shook his head. “I think he told me to go get my keys, that we had make-up in an hour, and went back to sleep.”

Aidan was apparently tearing himself apart over nothing. ‘Only the young’, Ian thought. “First of all, neither one of us thinks you’re gay. Second, you need to go talk to Dean.” Ian more worried that Aidan had probably given Dean whatever cold he had,  but only time would tell.

Before Aidan could argue, Graham added “He’s confused. He isn’t angry or upset at you, well, aside from the fact that you haven’t been talking to him. He doesn’t know why you’ve stopped talking to him, and it's making him worried. Apparently, whatever happened didn’t bother him in the slightest. He didn’t even tell me that you wound up in his bed, so he obviously thought nothing of it.” He glanced over at the rehearsal. "I need to go back. What are you planning to do?"

Aidan nodded, he wasn’t sure which was worse, the fact that he’d been clutching at Dean like some sort of children’s stuffed toy, or that Dean didn’t care if he stayed in the same bed as Aidan. One made his stomach churn out of embarrassment. The other made his stomach churn for an entirely different reason. Aidan sighed. “I’ll talk to him," he agreed.

 

*************************

 

Whatever Aidan and Dean had talked about regarding the incident stayed between them, but the effect was almost immediate. Aidan returned to being his bright and obnoxious self and even helped with the party planning.

The party was a hit. Of course, it had started out by Aidan dragging Dean out of his trailer one evening and shoving him unceremoniously toward the gym where they’d done their Dwarf Camp. There, the rest of the Dwarves, Ian, and Martin were waiting. They’d greeted him warmly, dressed up in those ridiculous hats and beards from the charity event, and then dressed Dean up to match – Thankfully Adam couldn’t find his face paint – and let the liquor flow freely. Richard’s idea of telling embarrassing stories about themselves was changed by Mark into telling embarrassing stories about each other, which was much more fun in the long run. They'd spent the rest of the night and well into the morning laughing.

Over the next few weeks, Dean spent more time with his co-workers, but he and Aidan were still more or less inseparable. Aidan didn’t like people spending time in his trailer, as he really didn’t want anyone to know how messy he actually was, so Dean picked up a game console and a few games and they spent most of their spare time in front of Dean's flatscreen. Adam and Stephen would join them occasionally, but it was usually just the two of them.

Dean tried to avoid watching movies, as he’d discovered that Aidan could literally fall asleep anywhere. Watching a movie after a long day filming could lull Aidan to sleep in about ten minutes, even action movies couldn't keep Aidan awake. Aidan was a cuddler. Anything soft within his reach would be grabbed up and hugged. This included spare pillows and blankets, laundry left out – which disturbed Dean a little bit – and, more often than not, Dean himself. During one evening where Aidan had complained that Dean was cheating at the game, but couldn’t explain how and insisted they watch something instead, Dean found himself trying to keep Aidan awake.

“I was talking to Richard the other day, about stuff he’s done before. He’s worked on some pretty cool projects. He also said you were a vampire in your past life.” Dean poked at Aidan’s shoulder.

“Fuck off,” Aidan frowned.

“You played a vampire?”

Aidan spared Dean a glare. “Yes, I played a vampire. A very cool vampire. Cooler than any vampire that’s ever existed.”

Dean grinned. “You weren’t one of those sparkly vampires, were you?”

“Fuck no!” Aidan squawked. “Oh, God, no. That would’ve been…” He took the spare pillow and threw it Dean. “Shut the hell up.”

“Awww, it can’t be that bad. I wanna see the cute widdle vampire. What movie?”

“It was a show. On BBC 3.”

“What was the name?” Dean goaded.

“Being Human.” Aidan muttered. “Look, it was an absolute blast, and I loved it, but… yeah. Time to move on.”

Dean grinned. “We should watch it. Let you re-live old memories.”

“No.”

“No?”

“NO.”

Dean leaned back on the couch. “You think playing a vampire’s weird? I’m a God.”

Aidan nearly jumped out of his seat. “What?” Dean couldn’t possibly mean – no way. Ian and Martin and all the others would have told him about that, they’d told him anything he ever asked. He thought for a moment, his mind racing. He knew about the minor Egyptian God working on the set design, a healing Greek working as a medic, and other Greeks and a few Maori scattered about the project. He knew about all the other Greek Gods he could think of – and some he’d discovered while doing research. Every name he’d asked about they had an answer for; either they knew exactly who that person was, or if the person wasn’t old enough yet, or they were waiting on a rebirth, all except for Athena and the ones not in their circle. They wouldn’t have forgotten to tell him about Dean, not his best mate. Even so, Dean would have told him sooner, since Aidan was in on the whole thing. “You’re a God?! Which one?”

“Bragi, God of poetry and being a wanker. Bending mortals to my will with my lovely, lovely words.” Dean grinned.

“Bragi? I don’t know that one.” Aidan frowned.

“Norse God.”

“Norse, like Odin and Loki?” He knew the Egyptians, the Maori, and the Greeks were wandering around, but there was Norse ones, too? How many Gods were living on Earth right now? Were there Celtic ones? What about, say, Chinese ones?"

“Yup. The Almighty Johnsons deals with the Norse Gods, it’s pretty silly, too. I mean, the concept is way out there, but it’s apparently pretty popular. Still filming on my days off here, we’re working around it. Right now, Bragi’s wandering around Norway looking for a stick, that’s how they’re explaining my absence. I’ll get more screen time next series, when I’m not filming in the Hobbit.

Wait, ‘series’? Aidan’s brain wrapped around that for a moment. Then he laughed. “You play a God on a television show?” He couldn’t stop laughing. How stupid he was! Of course Dean wasn’t a God! At least he hadn’t made a fool of himself too badly.

Dean made a face and shoved at Aidan. “It’s not that funny. It’s not that bad of a show.”

Aidan stopped laughing because he couldn’t breathe otherwise. Oxygen in, oxygen out, laugh, repeat. “That’s brilliant. I’m sorry.” Laugh again. “You know, I want to see that. Dean the God!” Forget breathing, this was just too good to stop laughing at it. Did Peter know about this? Did Ian? Oh, he was going to have a field day with it when he got a hold of the real Gods on set.

“No way. If I can’t watch you be a vampire, you can’t watch me be a God.” Dean sulked. It really wasn’t as funny as Aidan was making it out to be.

“Come on, I’ll be gentle with it, promise.” Aidan laughed.

“Nope. You watch the Johnsons, I’ll watch your Being Human.” Dean wrinkled his nose at Aidan. “And I WILL know if you watch it.”

“That is so not fair.”

“Hey, you’ve got the perfect opportunity to keep me away from your vampire stuff,” Dean grinned.

“How am I to know you won’t just go and watch it, hm? Behind my back.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “Easy. I probably wouldn’t let you live half the stuff down. ‘I vant to suck your blooooood…’” He made was he assumed was a scary face and grabbed at his friend.

Aidan laughed and threw his head back. “I never said that! Oh, there is NO way they could ever get me to say that.”

"Prove it. We'll watch some of yours, then some of mine. Make a marathon of it. Together." Dean offered.

“You know what, it’s a deal. You don’t watch my vampire without me, I don’t watch your God without you. Let’s seal it over a beer.”

“You just want my beer,” Dean grinned as he got up and pulled two cold ones out of his fridge.

“Guilty,” Aidan grinned.

Dean handed the beer over. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Dean and Aidan made a pact to watch each others' TV shows. Too bad they never wound up doing it, huh?


	5. Beer and Movies

One evening, while the Rivendell scenes were behind them and they were rehearsing the cave scenes before the Goblins...

Mark shook his head in amazement as Aidan and Dean worked their way through the canteen counters, picking up things and putting them on each others' plates without bothering to ask, laughing about something they had done to the newly arrived Elves. Dean would grab the apples, Aidan went after the main courses for both of them, and so forth. “They’re doing it again.”

James turned in his chair, being as obvious as an elephant at a beach. “Aw. They’re so cute.” He turned back. “They’re getting on really well.”

“They’re spending an awful lot of time together,” Richard noted. “They were at Dean’s five nights out of the last seven, I think. Makes you wonder if something’s going on with them.”

Mark, James, and Graham got very quiet, very quickly. Thank the Gods that Ian and Martin weren’t there – Martin would have had a smart remark about it and Ian would have made some semi-mysterious comment. After all, the plan was to let Dean and Aidan get close to each other – and it was working out perfectly.

Adam broke the silence. “Dean’s got that new Call of Duty game. He and Aidan rock at it. I watched them once.”

“You watched them, eh?” Stephen grinned. “Sounds kinky. They’re not quite my type, though.”

Adam flushed all the way down to his neck and choked on his sandwich. “That’s not what I meant, I mean, oh, bugger, I hate you.” Stephen laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Aidan asked, setting his tray down and recapturing the apple that had tried to escape its fate.

“Stephen’s a jerk and Adam needs to be more careful about language,” Mark grinned.

“Oh-kay. Not helpful.” Aidan leaned back in his chair and pulled out the one next to him for Dean. The Kiwi nodded his thanks before settling down. Mark grinned and Stephen began laughing all over again. Aidan rolled his eyes. “You seriously need some help, you know that?”

“Oh, there’s nothing that can help me,” Stephen said, still chuckling.

“We’re all well aware of that,” Richard smirked. “So, what have you two hellions been up to today”

“Nothing,” Dean popped a piece of chicken into his mouth.

“Right, nothing at all,” Aidan nodded and subsequently took a large bite of his apple.

Richard raised an eyebrow. “Graham, do you believe them?”

“Not in the slightest.” Graham nodded, looking wise and taking care not to get mustard on his costume. Aidan gave him a dirty look.

“As your uncle, I think you should tell me what you’ve been doing today.” Richard prodded at Aidan and Dean.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean said, mouth full. He swallowed and continued. “Well, you aren't our real uncle.” He said, in that tone a child uses on a stepparent who had just tried to ground them.

“Then you and Aidan aren’t real brothers, which does make one wonder what you’re up to. At night. In your trailer.” Richard countered. It was a arse move, but a good one. “Since you’re so aware that you’re not really brothers.”

Dean blushed. “Video games. That’s all. What, we can’t wind down at the end of the day?”

“There’s lots of ways to wind down,” Stephen waggled his eyebrows. Dean looked down at the food on his plate.

“Orlando Bloom apparently doesn’t like the sound of air horns,” Aidan prompted, saving Dean. “There’s a shop, some sort of sporting goods place that has a ton of ‘em. Dean knew about it. We picked up a few horns, and we’ve been… saying hello with them. Repeatedly. He’s found four of the lot we hid, but we’ve got a much more where that came from.”

Mark chuckled. “That would explain the noises I’ve been hearing from time to time.”

“Ian’s not going to like that,” Graham shook his head. “You’ll be lucky if you get away with just a long lecture.”

“We’re not doing it to him,” Aidan protested.

“But it’s going to bother Peter, and if it bothers Peter, Ian gets involved.” Graham left the last part unsaid – that Ian was an overprotective God sometimes, and his temper wasn’t something you wanted to play around with.

“Leave the lads alone,” Mark waved his fork at them. “They’re just having a bit of fun. Taking down that Elf a little bit’ll do him good. It's not like he’s going to be the focus for her this time around.”

Richard blinked. “For who? Who are you talking about?”

James didn’t miss a beat. “Lady luck, of course! He’s used all his up! Now it’s our turn!” He grinned.

Aidan let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He realized that Mark, Graham, and James were probably so used to covering up little mistakes that they didn’t even realize the heart attack they’d almost given him. How the hell could he keep a secret if they did things like that?

Next to Aidan, Dean noticed his friend let out a breath. He narrowed his eyes. What was all that about?

 

********************

 

Beer and movies. Beer and movies made for a very tired Aidan. A very tired Aidan made for easy talk. And cuddles. Dean didn’t mind the cuddles so much, it was Aidan’s reaction that Dean had the issue with. Aidan always looked so upset every time he caught himself doing it, or when he realized what he’d been doing after he’d woken up enough or sobered up, even though Dean never said a word.

Aidan wouldn’t be the first guy Dean had cuddled with.

Of course, he was the first one Dean had cuddled with that he hadn’t slept with beforehand.

It made for an interesting dynamic, in Dean’s opinion.

Dean wasn’t gay. He saw himself more in the lines of bi. Sure, he leaned towards the blokes more than the ladies, but he didn’t rule out either gender. He’d always been very careful – nothing casual, at least not in the past ten years. Dating, sure. Flirting, no problem. But when it came to taking someone home, he had a three-month rule. If they hadn’t been dating at least three months, it just wasn’t going to happen. First of all, who knew the diseases someone who hopped from bed to bed could have. Secondly, he usually on a set and sneaking someone into his trailer or staying out all night at a hotel was often easily noticed by castmates, producers, paparazzi, and some that would like to tear his career apart – not something he wanted to risk with someone who wasn’t serious about him. Unfortunately, most of his relationships never got to the three-month-mark, not in the modern sex-crazed world. So, cuddles had been pretty rare.

Aidan, however, was obviously of the belief that cuddles were the best thing in the universe. At least, lowered-inhibition Aidan believed that giving and getting them were the best things. Which was why drunk and tired Aidan was currently laying with his head in Dean’s lap, his arms wrapped around Dean’s legs like they were his favorite pillow, staring at the television with alarming intent. Dean had come to realize that Aidan was functioning on a platonic level, perhaps even a familial level, when it came to cuddling. Unfortunately, Dean's anatomy had trouble understanding that. His body was on one wavelength and his brain was reminding his body to shut the hell up. Dean was beginning to think his three-month-rule sucked.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“You Kiwis have weird movies, you know that? And you all talk funny.”

Dean paused the movie. “No we don’t. You talk funny.” At the very least, Aidan’s accent always got thicker when he was drunk, or tired. Or both. It made him a thousand times harder to understand.

Aidan shifted slightly, staring up at Dean. “I CAN talk funny, but it’s not as funny as you talking.” Aidan rattled off something in what Dean assumed was Irish. “See? You’re still funnier.”

“And you’re drunk. What did you say?”

Aidan was quiet for a moment. “It was what gramps yelled at me when I dropped a brick on his foot that one time.”

A few seconds of silence passed. “Hey, Aid?”

“Mmm-hm?"

“What was going on today? At lunch?” Dean absently played with the curls in Aidan's hair.

“We had food.”

Trust a drunk person to be honest. “Jimmy said something about a ‘her’. You seemed upset about it.”

“Oh, her.” Aidan sat up and made a face. “I don’ know. I don’ even know if she’s pretty or not. What if she’s a total waste? What if she’s a bitch? I mean, I know they’re not expectin’ nuthin’, but still. And what if she’s NOT? What if she’s the most awesome bird in the whole world, and she fancies YOU? Or Orlando? He was the first plan, you know. Years ago. Ian told me so. Ian says she always liked the Elves better than the Dwarves, back before, when she helped Tolkien publish the books. Ian says she push'd him to publish more than just the Hobbit. She saw that he wrote Lord of the Rings, and she want'd him to publish it. Then, she wanted the WHOLE history. She likes history. Graham said that. She want'd all the history for Middle Earth. But mostly the Elves." His eyes widened and his voice got low. "Or Lee Pace, you've seen his costume. All flashy. What if she if she likes THAT? So what if she doesn’ like me at all? I’m a Dwarf. She’ll like the Elf, I just know it. Or you. You played a God, she’ll like that. You know, I think I’d rather never meet her at all. That would be better. I should tell them no. They shouldn’ be talkin' about her anyway, not in the canteen. That was stupid. I wonder if they told Orlando about her last time? I mean, they didn’ want to tell me, and they haven' told you, so I wonder if he knew at all.”

“Aidan, who is she?” Dean got serious and gave a Aidan looked worried. He couldn’t mean any of their castmates, none of the women involved had been alive when Lord of the Rings had been published.

Aidan’s nose scrunched up. “I dunno. They dunno. Jimmy is Jimmy and Mark is Mark and Graham is Graham and Ian is Ian and Martin is Martin and Peter is Peter, but they don’ know her name. Not yet. That’s why they want'd me. And you, I think. And Orlando. They want to know her name. Funny way to find it, isn’t it? With all the cool stuff they can do, lightnin' and makin' stuff, you'd think they'd just know it. Martin should know it. A vision of her writin' her name, or somethin'. But she doesn' listen. But I suppose if she’d listen, they wouldn’ have to do that. But if they didn’ have to do that, I wouldn’ be here talking to you now, ‘cause they wouldn’ need me. We’d probably have never had met. That would suck.” Aidan rambled.

“Yeah, it would.” Dean nodded. Dean had no idea what Aidan was going on about. Dean wouldn’t get a straight answer about ‘her’ tonight. In fact, Aidan's ramblings were a little worrisome. The Irishman usually halfway made sense, even when he was drunk. “Are you feeling sick at all? Fever, stomach, headache, hallucinations? You're acting strange.”

“No. I'm jus'... fine. I'm real good. I'm as good as Hercules when he beat up the... dragon monster thing with lots of heads.” Aidan looked very cheerful about that. "I'm jus' drunk, is all."

Dean gave the empty beer bottles a quick glance. There were a large number of them, and he’d only had two. Aidan may have overdone it. Still, had any of the bottles been tampered with - could the newly angered Elves have slipped something into them? Was Aidan normally this crazy and nobody had noticed? No, that wasn’t possible, Dean spent so much time with him that the Kiwi would have noticed. Dean glanced back down at the bottles. Did alcohol poisoning make you hallucinate? The medic would know.

“Definitely drunk,” Dean agreed. “I think something else is wrong, though, you're acting strange. We should get you to the medic. Come on.” He stood and slid his shoes on. Aidan looked at him dazedly while Dean put Aidan’s shoes on his feet. “Up we go,” Dean pulled Aidan up, and put one arm over his shoulder.

“I don’ wanna. I’m jus' drunk a little. Yeah. Little.” Aidan’s accent was almost too thick for Dean to pick up what he was saying. “I wanna sleep. Lemme sleep, Deano.”

“You have to sleep in your trailer, remember what happened when you slept in my bed? Let’s go to your trailer.” It was a lie, but anything to get Aidan moving – Aidan was a bit taller than Dean, and Dean wasn’t sure if he could drag Aidan if Aidan really didn’t want to go. The medic could figure out what could be done about Aidan's state. Dean was never giving the Irishman that much liquor again. Sometimes, stereotypes just weren't true. 

“That’s because I’m not gay.” Aidan protested.

“I know that, you told me before.” Dean rolled his eyes and grimaced. Just his luck. “We talked about that.”

“Jus' makin' sure you knew,” Aidan nodded dumbly as Dean fought with the door. “’Cause if you didn’, you’d think this was weird.”

“What was weird?” Dean frowned. The door hated him right now, and juggling Aidan didn’t help.

“This,” Aidan slid a bit away from Dean, pulling himself away from the shoulder, and then pushed his lips against Dean’s. "Love ya, mate." He backed off and blinked at his friend, smiling,

It wasn’t exactly the most romantic thing in the world, Aidan’s inebriation and inability to hold himself up made the act quick and fairly sloppy, but it spoke volumes. Dean’s fight with the door was forgotten. Had Aidan really just KISSED him? “Aidan,” he spoke very carefully. “I  hope to God you don’t remember this tomorrow. Right now, it’s very hard for me not to take advantage of you, so let’s go outside.” Dean’s brain, still slightly off from his own beers, wanted desperately to kiss Aidan back. Something a little sweeter and more romantic that what Aidan had managed. But Aidan had made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in men. Dean told the perverted part of his brain to shut the hell up and he pulled Aidan back against his side and finally got them out the door and down the steps of the trailer. That particular part of his brain rejoiced at the contact, and Dean had to concentrate on walking with Aidan. Left, right, left, right.

He was still in the mass of trailers when Martin emerged from nowhere, with Graham, James, and Ian in tow. Martin made a beeline for the two of them, looking pale. “Oh, no, oh, no. I was hoping it would be later, that we’d get here before…”

“Later? Before?” Dean’s eyes widened. “We're just drunk. I'm taking Aidan to the medic to check on him. He’s spouting all sorts of crazy shit."

"Crazy?" Graham frowned.

Martin cringed. "He’s been talking… what would be considered crazy, historically speaking.” He leveled his gaze with the rest of the group.

Ian frowned and shook his head. "Pitchforks and dismemberment", he mumbled to himself. He could remember what happened to them, and previous allies, when a slip had been made. Aidan had just made a doozy of one, if Martin’s vision was correct. They shouldn’t have encouraged him to get so close to Dean, not with the knowledge he had. They were lucky Dean just thought Aidan was drunk, others had jumped to far worse conclusions, even recently. They were still trying to get Hydro’s girlfriend out of the asylum her family had stuck her in.

“If I’d gone to bed sooner, the vision, it would’ve been earlier. We might have had time.” Martin whispered.

“Nothing you can do about that now,” Ian said quietly as he squeezed Martin’s shoulder.

“Get out of my way,” Dean frowned at the lot of them. Graham didn’t seem nearly so frightening as he had back when he’d cornered Dean in the canteen a month ago, at least, that was what Dean told himself as the man towered over him. “I’m going to the medic, and I’m taking Aidan with  me.”

Graham sighed dramatically. “You’ll never get there, the way you’re stumbling about. How much have you had?”

Dean frowned. “Two bottles... Which isn’t enough to make me drunk.”

“It’s enough to fail a breathalyzer. Hand him over.” Graham leaned down and more or less plucked Aidan from Dean’s side. “I’ll go with ya. March.” He pushed Dean forward with his spare hand and guided them both towards the medical facilities.

Ian didn’t quite care for this – Aidan didn’t need the medic, Aidan just needed sleep. This was getting too far out of hand, he needed to end this farce. Martin stopped him as he moved forward. “Let them go.” He insisted. A roll of thunder was heard off in the distance and Ian narrowed his eyes. Martin didn’t budge. “Dean isn’t going to give up. Trying to talk him out of going will make him more suspicious, and it’ll cause too many problems. It'll work out. I saw what Aidan said, he didn’t give out anything too damning to us, or Athena. A lot of rambling that would only make sense for someone who is in the know. I couldn’t stop it in time, but I may be able to do damage control. I’ll talk to Peter and Simon. Simon should know what drugs could cause hallucinations and ramblings, we can use that to our advantage. Peter may be able send a message to Liz before Graham gets there with the boys, and if it’s too late for that, I’m sure he can find a way that Dean won’t see or hear to get a message to her. That’s Peter’s specialty. I may not be Athena with all her fancy planning, but I can do this." He put a hand on Ian's shoulder. "I feel responsible, my vision didn’t come fast enough.”

Thank the stars that one of the Healing Goddesses was on site. Martin, being Apollo, could handle some of the healing, but he couldn't run the small medical facility and act at the same time. Elizabeth, also known as the minor Goddess Iaso, had taken over that job, and despite her weak powers of healing, her knowledge of the human body was almost unsurpassed in their group. She had always been faithful to Zeus, and would do as told by Hermes and Apollo, especially since Apollo was her Godly grandfather. Ian nodded. “Go. Jimmy, come with me.”

Martin left them at a full sprint, pulling out his mobile phone, not even bothering to look where he was going and not stumbling in the slightest in the dark. He had Simon dialed within seconds and was out of Ian’s sight moments later.

Ian and James headed over to the medical facility. Sure enough, Graham had a handful with both Aidan and Dean and they hadn’t gotten very far. Aidan had passed out completely, and Dean was shuffling along at a gait that could only be described as lethargic, arguing with the Scotsman... loudly. Ian asked James to keep Dean distracted, to slow the pace even further to give Martin more time. He just hoped they’d get to the facility before that storm he’d brewed hit. He was getting old, losing control too often. He hadn’t had this many problems with control since he’d been young child. No-one had said anything about it, but then, it had always been Athena who would point out that his capacity was diminishing, make him go rest more often when he got up there in age. She had always had a good head on her shoulders, and never had been nervous about telling him off.

"Get out the way, Jimmy. I can handle this." Dean was insistently arguing with James that he was sober enough to help Aidan and that Graham needed to hand the Irishman back. When James didn't move, Dean actually turned on Graham and poked the older man in the chest indignantly. "Graham, you give me back Aidan, you'll hurt him, the way you've got him."

James bristled a bit at that. Graham was a big man, and currently older than him, but he was still James's son, no matter how old Prometheus got. It didn't matter if your child was five, fifty, or five thousand, they were still your child. "Graham knows what he's doing. Stop fighting with him. You've had some to drink, if you tried to carry Aidan, you'd probably fall and both of you would get hurt." 

Dean wasn't very happy about it. Drunk Dean, or at least fairly pissed Dean, didn’t quite have the logic of sober Dean. It had been working in their favor so far, since Dean thought Aidan’s little speech had been the result of alcohol, but now it was turning against them. Dean swung at James. James, Iapetus, was never a fighter. Sure, he could look scary, but looking scary wasn’t enough when someone who had been trained in martial arts at a young age decided to give you a black eye.

You wind up getting a black eye.

James was sure that Dean had more beers than he'd thought.

Ian was sure that Liz was not going to be very happy with them.

When they finally reached the medical facility, Graham dropped Aidan onto a gurney-style bed that was sitting in one corner. Dean, impatient, rushed toward the office-slash-bedroom of Liz. Dean fussed at Liz, begging her to wake up and to please come check on Aidan because he was acting strange. Ian noted that although Liz looked half asleep and sounded angry at being woken in the middle of the night, her mobile on the bedside table was lit up. It looked like Peter had gotten the message to her – even if it was a conventional method.

Liz fussed over Aidan a bit, then Dean. She shined a penlight in both their eyes, checked their pulse, and asked Dean a few questions about what he had eaten and drank that night. She'd known they had been drinking from the smell of his breath as he'd 'woken' her, but played along anyway. She concluded to Dean that yes, Aidan was under the influence of alcohol, but it wouldn't cause hallucinations. She drew blood from Aidan, just to be sure, and then went to the back room, where she said she’s run a couple tests.

Even Ian knew better. Their facility was only equipped to handle minor injuries. Anything like a break or major damage, the patient had to be taken to the hospital. Liz didn’t have the equipment to run a blood test. Dean didn’t know that, though.

Liz returned a few minutes later. “Pemolin.” She said. “It’s for ADHD, but it can cause hallucinations in some patients, especially when mixed with alcohol. You don’t have any trace of it, but Mr. Turner here had it prescribed to him last week, by me, and it looks like it took a while to build up in his system. He’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t take any more. In fact, it’ll be best if he stays off any ADHD medicine at all, a reaction like that to Pemolin will probably be repeated by most of the other prescriptions. I’m sorry. He came to me asking for something to help him concentrate on his work, I thought it would help.” She looked genuinely sorry. Ian wondered if they shouldn’t have her acting.

Dean sat down, almost falling down, on the nearby couch. He glanced over at James. “Sorry, I was just worried."

“Buy me a few beers and we’ll call it even,” James grinned from his seat, dutifully holding an ice pack over his eye. “Ah, maybe not. That's what got us into this. Ian, think Pete’ll give me a couple days off?”

“I think your make-up artist has her work cut out for her for a few days,” Ian grinned.

“Bastard.” James laughed.

“ANYWAY,” Liz frowned at them. “I’m going to keep Aidan here for observation. Everyone else, out.” She pointed at the door. Dean looked like he wanted to ask if he could stay, but one look from the doctor changed his mind. Ian, however, hesitated at the door and waved the others on, closing it after them.

“Elizabeth, thank you."

“I prefer pink roses to words, sir.” She grinned back at him. She glanced over at her patient – Aidan was going to have one monster of a hangover tomorrow morning. “We got lucky, didn’t we?”

Ian nodded. “If Martin hadn’t had the vision, damage control would have been impossible. I take it Aidan hasn’t got ADHD?”

“Oh, no,” Liz smiled wryly. “He’s definitely got ADHD. But a lot of actors do, I’ve found. It actually works with their profession very well. I’ll let him know of the ruse in the morning.” She frowned. “Ian, Zeus… you don’t think Peter will pull him from his role for this, will he?”

“No,” Ian said. “I’ll talk to him if he’s thinking about it. Even the greatest heroes slipped up from time to time. Alcohol makes fools of all of us.”

She glanced down at Aidan. “I’m glad. He’s a sweet guy. I know large burden has been placed on him.”

“Agreed.” Ian didn’t bring up that Aidan wasn’t the only one they were pinning their hopes on – Dean acted very heroically that night, far beyond what they had believed him to be capable of. Athena would have been ecstatic. “He still hasn’t accepted the offer, though.”

“He hasn’t rejected it, either, from what I’ve heard.” Liz added.

Ian opened the door, but glanced back at Liz before he left. “True. Very true.”


	6. Mortals are Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the boozer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the gap in chapters. Don't worry, the next one should be out very soon. The second proofread has not been done, so please excuse any errors that W.D. and I did not catch on the first go-around.

"My head is going to explode. Boom. Gone.” Aidan groaned at James, his head on James's table. He’d woken up on the gurney twenty minutes ago with a warm blanket over him and a very disappointed Liz torn between glaring and laughing at him. At least he hadn’t thrown up, or if he had, Liz had cleaned it up already. Liz had forced two glasses of water and some painkillers down his throat before explaining what Dean had been told and sending Aidan on his way.

“Get yer head off the table,” James shoved at him. “It’s your own fault. You’re lucky Peter gave everyone a holiday today, he could have made you work.” Granted, Peter was in pretty poor condition, too. The late night escapade had made their director unable to go back to sleep, and he’d looked like a zombie when he’d come in and announced that due to some random unforeseen circumstance, all filming was postponed until tomorrow, even the second unit. The Elves still had their training, costume fittings, and rehearsals, but no filming meant no Dwarves.

Aidan flipped James off. “Sod it all.” He pillowed his head with his arms. He hadn’t even touched his breakfast. In fact, looking at it made him sick. “No more drinking at Deano’s.”

James laughed. “I doubt that. But next time you’ll be a bit more careful, eh?” Aidan nodded into his arms.

“I fucked up big time,” Aidan groaned. “I can’t believe I said all that.” He wasn’t sure what was worse, the headache or the fact that he remembered everything up until Graham had taken over practically carrying him to the medic. He'd kissed Dean. Oh God, HE'D KISSED DEAN! What was he thinking? What did Dean think about it? At least the Kiwi hadn't kissed him back.

James lowered his voice – his trailer may have been pretty well soundproofed, but one could never know who was passing by. “Yes, you did. But we fixed it. You’re not the first little hero who’s screwed up. You’re not even close to what the first God who screwed up did.” He patted Aidan on the back.

“I’m not a fucking hero. I’m not Perseus or Odysseus or any of the others. I’m a damn ACTOR. I run around, pretending to be a hero, and then go to sleep in my nice warm bed. The stunties make me look good, and CGI makes me look wickedly majestic. But it’s not me fighting trolls and orcs. It’s Kili. I can play with the swords and run around all I want, that doesn’t make me a hero.”

James nodded, staring into his coffee cup. Aidan didn’t understand what made up a hero. Courage was one key – and courage was looking something terrifying in the face, feeling that fear and nervousness, and doing it anyway. They’d all done that, in the movie industry. It was one of the most terrifying fields to go into – to know that rejection was always possible, to have people try to tear you down and destroy you because they wanted what you had. It was easy, to face and kill a minotaur: adrenaline kept you going and you didn’t think about what you were doing until it was over. Courage was dealing with the buildup of fear and stepping up anyway. Aidan had done that – he’d come all the way from Ireland to work with people he’d never met before on a project that was on such a grand scale that it was almost incomprehensible. He’d gone into acting when he could have just gotten a sodding regular old job. Killing the minotaur didn’t make you a hero, feeling that lump in your throat still and heading into the minotaur’s lair did.

Then there was kindness and honesty – Aidan had those in spades. Sure, he’d played more than his share of pranks, but they were all in good fun. Aidan never said ‘no’ to anyone, he gave and gave. He’d even done his best to keep the Athena secret, well, a secret. The kid’s laugh was infectious, and even when he’d just been woken from one of his regular naps on set he was still usually joyful and bouncing. The set would’ve been quite a bit more somber if it hadn’t been for him.

Cleverness – always necessary for a hero. Aidan had that, too. Anything that struck his fancy, you’d find him reading up on. Trivia, little facts, history, he’d recite it like it was nothing. He came up with some of the most interesting pranks James had ever seen, the crew still hadn’t found all the air horns the lads had hidden. Granted, he had the memory of a sieve, forgetting things as quickly as he learned them sometimes, but it made him more interesting and enjoyable. You never knew what he'd come up with next.

Finally, humility. That was the rarest of all. Sure, Aidan knew he was an attractive lad, he’d jokingly boast about it, but he’d get very nervous when someone mentioned it. Like any actor, he liked attention, but when it was pointed out to him that he had sex appeal, he clammed up pretty quickly. And now, with him saying that he wasn’t a hero, that was enough to seal the deal.

Both of the lads were perfect, in different ways. Aidan and Dean. Little heroes, born centuries too late. Out of their time when they would have been clad in armor and had praise heaped upon them at the seat of Olympus. Dean’s display last night had proved himself – he’d gone toe-to-toe with Graham, given James a black eye, and had been more worried about Aidan than himself. Oh, yes, little heroes indeed. Athena didn’t need someone to slay the monster like Aidan thought, technology could do that nowadays. Athena needed a REAL hero.

“Yer bein’ too hard on yerself.” James patted Aidan on the back. “You’ll feel differently when that hangover goes away.”

“No, I won't.” Aidan finally sat up properly, his eyes puffy and bloodshot. He seemed nervous, despite staring James in the eye and sounding completely sure of himself. “I can’t do it. The whole Athena thing. It’s crazy.” James paled a bit. “I’m not going to leave the project, and I’m not going to leave anyone hanging with the whole publicity things… I’m just… I’m not going to actively look, or anything. If you’ve got any way to take the whole God crap out of my head, I’ve got no issues with it. I’ll just be an actor on this project, like Adam and Stephen and Jeb and… and Dean.”

“Aidan….” James frowned. “Even Mnemosyne can’t take out memories. Once you know something, it can’t just go away. Time is the only thing that can erase a memory, and I don’t think Cronos could do it, either.” It worried him. He hadn’t realized what it was like to be mortal. What it was like to just remember one lifetime, instead a maelstrom of memories stringing back centuries. What it was like to not have the power – or know someone who did – to change things for the better when it felt like there was no hope. To wish away memories instead of facing them, knowing that the memories would fade and new ones would be made. Humans were so focused on the moment. He forgot, humans were so very, very….

Fragile.

Here he was, the God of Crafting and Mortality and there was nothing he could do for this little mortal in front of him. He looked down. He didn’t have the words to fix it, to tell Aidan that it would be all right, that he could do this. He couldn’t make a giant plaster pop out of the air that would fix Aidan. It tugged at James’s, at Iapetus’s, heart, this little mortal that laughed at everything now seemed so broken down; all because he thought he’d messed up.

At that moment, James knew why Athena adored the mortals so much – it was the same reason why Iapetus and Prometheus had adored them, they were so full of life! They were so ever-changing; one day joyous and happy, the next they thought the world was ending. So much to DO in so little time. So fragile and yet so resilient at the same time. Aidan would bounce back – a little time and the right words would do the trick. Until then…

Aidan pulled his attention back. “Nobody can take away memories? That sounds like bull.”

James shrugged, looking back up at the lad. “Maybe a different pantheon can, but I tend to stay away from those – not popular with them. Come on.” He tugged Aidan up.

“Where’re we goin’?”

“YOU are going back to your trailer. You have a hangover and you’re not thinking straight. You are going to take a nap, and then wake up and feel much better.” James pushed other Irishman. “I am going to talk to Peter and Fran about what you said.” That was a lie, but James didn’t know what else to tell Aidan. “Tomorrow, we are going to do something insanely stupid – just not jumping out of a plane again. Fran’s still not happy about that.” He walked the lad back to his own trailer, knowing that some rest and some more Tylenol might brighten the day and give Aidan a new outlook.

As he walked back to his trailer, James thought: 'Mortals are impossible'.

*****************************

Sometime after lunch, Dean knocked twice on Aidan’s trailer door, but got no response. He tried the handle and found it unlocked. Of course, Aidan would lock the damn thing when he needed it open and leave it unlocked when he didn’t.

“Aid?” Dean called out. “You in here? James said you weren’t feeling well after that medication episode.” He looked around. Clothes strewn all over the place, empty take-out containers on the table, it was a right mess. It wouldn’t be hard to clean it all up, if Aidan would just take the time.

Dean poked his head into Aidan’s bedroom and found his best friend wrapped up in a blanket like a small child, eyes squeezed shut. “You know, if you’re pretending to be asleep, you’re doing a bad job of it. You sure you’re an actor?” Dean asked.

Aidan opened one eye. “Only when I’m not hungover. Turn that light off.”

Dean obliged, then sat down on the edge of Aidan’s bed. Aidan scooted back a bit. “Looks like that medication hit you pretty hard.”

“The beer hit harder. How much did I drink?”

Dean ducked his head, embarrassed. He’d thought getting Aidan drunk would get him to talk more, not set off some sort of hallucinogenic side effect. “Too much. I kept handing them to you. I’m really, really sorry.”

Aidan shook his head – the hangover was getting less and less as he remembered to drink water throughout the day and rest. By dinner, he may even be human again. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Why?”

“I kissed you.”

Ah. Dean frowned. So, Aidan remembered that part. Remembering the Irishman's reaction when Aidan had spent the night in his bed, Dean tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, and you called me mate. You got some secrets in that head of yours you want to tell me about? Or does hallucinating just make you very... kissy?” Dean teased. Who knows what had been going on in that Irish head.

Aidan blinked. Yes, he’d been pissed. Very pissed. But he KNEW for a fact that he had kissed Dean, that he’d rambled on about Athena, and that Dean had insisted they go see the medic. Here Dean was, giving him an out for the whole thing, blaming the 'reaction'. He took it. “I was really out of it. I keep telling you, I’m not gay. No secrets about that. You ARE my mate, my best friend.”

“You ever kissed your best mate before?” Dean raised an eyebrow. Yes, he'd given his friend and out, but he couldn't let Aidan go without some teasing.

“No,” Aidan gritted out. “All right, ONCE. It was at acting school! It doesn’t count. What happens at Uni stays at Uni.”

“Was it… during a play? A scene? A rehearsal?"

“Fuck off.”

“That’s a no, then.” Dean grinned. “I don’t care. You tried kissing a bloke once, big deal. Kissing a bloke once before and me last night doesn’t make you gay. You were just being overly friendly and very inebriated.”

“Deano?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not helping.”

“Never said I was going to.”

Aidan fidgeted at the head of his bed. “What did I say, when I was…” He didn’t want to say drunk, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie about the supposed medication. He couldn’t remember all of it, just that he knew he’d screwed up.

Dean shrugged. “You talked about some girl. Never could give me her name. It sounded like someone was setting you up on a blind date.” He nudged his friend. “You been working too much? Someone thinks you need to loosen up? You said she liked The Hobbit, but you were worried she’d like Orlando or Lee or me better than you. You’ve got issues with this girl, mate. The meds made you sound wonky, but I got the gist of it.”

Thank God. Dean didn’t pick up on most of it. He’d had a few beers, too, maybe that had fudged his brain. Maybe, just maybe he could pull this off. He shoved at Dean. “Hey, when Riverdance decides to stop rehearsing on my head, d’you want to go into town, maybe grab a bite? We’ve got the day off, right?”

Dean nodded. A day-cation was perfect.

********************

Ian scowled, pacing the floor of the studio. Peter was against him, he knew it. His own son, Hermes, fighting against Zeus on one of the most important things ever! How dare he, that little whelp, trying to undermine his authority! “You can’t do that.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and resisted the urge to rub his head. “Ian, for the millionth time, it works great. You just saw it.”

“I did see it. It’s not right.” Ian stopped, crossed his arms, and gave Peter his best glare.

Fran sat to the side, watching her husband and Ian verbally spar. They were getting nowhere with this. Neither side was willing to back down. It was ridiculous, at best. How on Earth had males managed to become the dominant gender in the first place? If it weren’t for women, males, even Godly ones, would still be shoving pointed sticks at each other and grunting and living in caves, she was certain of it.

“It looks fine!”

“It looks faked.”

“Well, that would be because it IS faked. We can’t bring in a Tesla coil and let it go!” Peter sighed. His ulcer was going to come back, he just knew it.

“Of course not, those are too random. You’ll kill somebody.” Ian agreed.

Peter motioned to the ceiling. “Which would be why it’s faked.”

Ian continued. “There’s a perfectly safe way to get the effect and to do it correctly. It wouldn’t even cost you anything.”

Peter glared. “You are NOT going to do your lightning, INSIDE, during one of the shoots!”

“It would look genuine! I’m sure we can get someone to come up with some techno-babble about how it’s done. They don’t even have to know it’s me.”

“We are not using real lightning during the stone giants scene. The lighting effects are excellent, and the film tests we’ve done look perfect.”

“I think those test look terrible,” Ian pouted. “It’s supposed to be a thunder battle, this is a perfect use of my abilities. I hardly get to use them in cinema.”

Peter rubbed his forehead. “No… you just screw up outdoor shots when you get mad,” he mumbled. Fran hoped Ian’s hearing was deteriorated enough to not have heard that.

“I do not,” Ian protested. His hearing wasn’t as poor as Fran had hoped. “And, for your information, that whole El Nino thing was not my fault, either. I am tired of being blamed for that.” He crossed his arms and sulked like a child.

“You are still not using lightning inside my sound stage.” Peter said.

“I am Zeus, God of the Storm, Head of the Thrones of Olympus, and Father to...“

“And I am the one making the movie.” Peter countered loudly. “And. I. Said. No.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “I could electrocute everything on set, you know that, right? Fry every camera, every computer, every screen. Electricity is a gift to humankind, but I can make it a weapon once again.”

Fran sighed, slamming her papers on the table to get the Gods' attention. “You won’t do that. First of all, you’ll fry your own computer, and you love that little laptop. Second of all, people could get hurt, and you don’t like doing that. Third, it will take weeks for us to replace all the equipment, during which time you will get incredibly bored and start complaining. Now, if both of you could please put your egos away for a little while-“

“He started it!” Peter protested.

“This isn’t about ego, it’s about doing it RIGHT.” Ian argued, slamming his fist on the table.

Fran sighed. MEN.

*******************************

Peter got his way and the lighting effects truly were something spectacular. Ian, however, refused to have any part of it. He took a few days to go pout, but left the studio with a massive storm that refused to budge for three days solid.

The stone giants scenes went off without TOO many hitches, and despite James’s attempt to ‘only get a light spritzing’, the assistants delighted in turning the hose on full force at him. Let it not be said that for the next three days, a single Dwarf went without a proper soaking – both heading to and inside the soundstage.

Weeks passed, and Aidan banished all thoughts of Athena. He was going to do his job, he was going to do it well, and he was going to look good while doing it. He was an adult, and whining over silly things like whether or not a Goddess would like him was straight out of primary school. The Dwarves often hit up pubs on their days off, and although Aidan and Dean were still inseparable, they made sure to take time for their own lives. Dean spent some of his spare time filming the Almighty Johnsons and photographing or drawing everything he could lay his hands on. Aidan not only finished the video game he’d been playing for ages, but he also actually took the time to read some classical literature Martin and Ian loaned him. Dean even borrowed some of the literature when Aidan was done. Aidan talked Dean into teaching him to draw some basic forms, and the both of them had a blast riding the studio's horses whenever they could find time.

Dean slowly forgot about the so-called medical reaction, and life on set slowly leveled off to a more normal pattern – well, as normal as filming and living so close to other actors could be, anyway. They still pranked people on the set, but Aidan and Orlando had come an understanding after Orlando ruined one of Aidan’s scenes in retribution for the air horns. They still drove most of the crew absolutely mad on their worst days, but they were finally comfortable in their roles as two of the youngest in the cast. They even got on pretty well with Lee and Luke, much to the chagrin of Orlando.

So, one day, after working hard at riding around in barrels for hours on end (that was one of the most exhausting shoots either one of them had ever done), Aidan and Dean sat in Aidan’s clean (thanks to a brave on-set assistant who’d been sent by Ian) trailer, zoning out to a film Aidan had borrowed from someone. Aidan’s eyes slowly closed, and he finally wound up slouched against Dean, slowly curling himself into Dean’s side. Dean had long given up trying to get Aidan to not fall asleep and cuddle. It just wasn’t worth the stress.

Then the door swung open. “Aidan? Aidan, Peter thinks we may have a lead on..Ah, hello Dean.” Mark paused for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

Aidan stirred and stretched from his seat on the couch. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have people in your trailer,” Mark frowned, pointing at Dean. “You never have people in your trailer, it's a mess. Well, not now, I can actually see the floor. Didn't know there was carpet there. How did you do that? Anyway, I saw the light, and thought you were alone, and… well, you’re obviously not.”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean insisted. “He just zonks out and does that. You know he falls asleep everywhere, even on set. Especially on set.”

Mark nodded. “Yes, but he doesn’t do THAT on set.” He motioned to how close the two of them were.

“I’m sitting right here. Can we talk about me like I’m sitting right here?” Aidan frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Not important. We can talk about it later.” Mark said.

Dean turned to Aidan. “You’re secretly a spy, aren’t you? That’s what Mark was coming to tell you about – spy stuff. Now, the only other person you spend a lot of time with is Ian, so... he must be your handler. And you’re spying on me, because you think I have information useful to MI-5.”

Mark laughed at that, then schooled his face. “This is... serious. Aidan, can you come talk to Peter tomorrow? It’s about… well… ahm... About a young lady.”

Aidan frowned. James had never told them he said he was out? That bastard, he was going to have words with James as soon as he saw the other Irishman. “No.”

Mark looked like Aidan had hit him. “What do you mean, 'no'?”

“Look, can we not have this conversation now?” Aidan spared Dean a glance. “Just tell them 'no' for me. James should have done that ages ago, back when I got sick. You remember that, right? I told James 'no' back then.” He glared at Mark.

Mark looked at Aidan, then at Dean, then at the two of them sitting so close together. Of course – Aidan was backing out because he didn’t want to cheat on Dean. That had to be it. Everyone had suspected for some time now… but to have it confirmed like this, it was a bit of a shock. It shouldn’t change the plan, not in the slightest. Athena preferred men who looked out for each other; that was why Aidan and Dean had been encouraged spend so much time together. Athena was only being baited by the two of them, there were others that could be suitable for her as a lover. Surely Aidan knew that.

“I’ll… I’ll tell Peter. You know, you don’t have to DO...“

“NO, Mark.”

Mark left dejectedly, closing the door behind him. 'How am I going to explain this to Peter?' He thought on the way back.

************************

Peter wasn’t happy.

He wasn’t angry, either.

He didn’t know what he was feeling.

He’d known that Aidan and Dean had been spending a great deal of time together, he’d encouraged it. Ian had encouraged it. Martin had encouraged it – while still giving them as much hell as he was capable. He didn’t think that the two would wind up... together.

He could downplay it as much as possible. Give the two of them the time they needed together while making sure that behind the scenes footage and comments made about the two of them were sparse. They could still work as bait, as far as the movie was concerned, but there was no way he could use the publicity they could generate together.

That would backfire on them.

Not only could it easily destroy their careers, but Athena would probably not pay them the least bit of attention, should this get out.

And James…

Oh, James had known about this, if Mark’s statement was anything to go by. Granted, they all suspected something was going on, but to have it thrown in their faces? James was going to have a lot of explaining to do – more so than the skydiving episode.

Peter just wasn’t sure what to do. Some professor from America, a cinema professor that had come to visit a friend on set, had mentioned a young woman he’d had in his class years ago. She'd known the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings backwards and forwards. She’d even helped him prep a few classes on Tolkien. Her working style was similar to Athena’s, from what the professor had mentioned. Although she excelled at philosophy, it had been clear that the girl loved planning and manipulating. They finally had a good lead on Athena, and now their plans were about to be derailed. 

He thanked Mark, who didn’t quite run from the room. Peter rubbed his forehead. When in doubt, ask your parents. He picked up his mobile and dialed. “Ian? I’m really sorry about the lightning thing. Can we talk?”

******************

Back in Aidan’s trailer, Dean hadn’t bothered to turn the movie back on. They just sat on the couch, Aidan’s head leaning on Dean’s shoulder, Dean with his arm around his friend, since that was the only comfortable way he could sit with Aidan so close.

“Aid? What was all that about?” Dean finally asked.

Aidan closed his eyes. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean chewed the inside of his cheek. To pester or not to pester, that is the question… “I won’t leave you alone about it until you tell me. At lunch, playing games, at the pub, I can be very persistent.”

Aidan slouched forward, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “It’s about a girl.”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“No, that’s the point.”

Dean frowned. “You didn’t have a hookup, did you? How did you sneak her on set? Or did you go out?” He waggled his eyebrows – not that Aidan could see it from where he was..

“No,” Aidan shook his head. “No hookup, no girlfriend, no on set or off set and damn it, you have no idea how frustrating THAT is, because frankly, I’m not exactly used to being celibate.”

Dean mulled that one over. “Had a girlfriend, then? Is this about her?”

“Lenora? No, we sort of fell apart after I came here. Actually, we were sort of going our own ways even before then. It was amicable.”

“I’m confused, then.”

“You REALLY aren’t going to let this go, are you?” Aidan twisted to look Dean in the eye.

Damn it. Aidan looked so vulnerable, and all Dean would have to do was bend slightly and… ‘No, not a good idea, Dean. We don’t need another one of Aidan’s ‘I’m not gay’ panic attacks.’ He told himself. Dean went with the safer choice. “Of course not.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re annoying.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“You’re not helping.” Aidan went silent and put his head back in his hands.

They sat there for a long time. Aidan didn’t elaborate, and Dean didn’t push. He’d already done enough. Dean turned the movie back on, and Aidan slowly slipped into a semi-conscious state, using Dean as a pillow once again. At least Aidan managed to keep his hands to himself this time – the last time Aidan had clutched onto him like a stuffed toy, Dean had to find a blanket to put over his lap, even though Aidan had been asleep at the time.

As the credits rolled, Aidan finally spoke again. “Hey, Deano?”

“I thought I wasn’t helping.”

“Just shut up and listen,” Aidan sat up and faced Dean fully, sleepiness evaporated like it usually did after one of his naps. “What if there was this girl, a girl you’ve never met before, but you feel like everyone else wants you to meet her. They’ve all done everything they can to push you into her way, because they think she’ll like you. But you’ve never met her, you don’t know anything about her, and you’re not sure if you’ll like her or if she’ll like you. She could be a really nice girl, but she could be a total wench. And, if the two of you don’t like each other, everyone’s willing to give up, but not until you try. And she has no clue about the whole fucking thing. How would you feel about that?”

“Sounds like the premise of terrible romantic comedy.” Dean asserted.

“Be serious.”

“I was.”

“Fine, be hypothetical.”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno how I’d feel. Probably flattered. Probably pissed off at my mates. Probably nervous. You aren’t thinking of doing this to me, are you?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Aidan said. “But someone else I know would – HAS, actually.”

“To me? Or to you? Is that was Mark was on about? They’re trying to hook you up with someone?”

“Eh, might be. Well, I am apparently a candidate. But so are you, I think. Me for a fact. You, probably. It looks like they’re trying to set up a few others, too.”

Dean laughed. “Sounds like desperation! And a really bad rom-com. Is someone seriously trying to get some bird a boyfriend that badly? Who’s the girl? She work on set?”

“Dean, you can’t tell anybody about this. I’m serious. It’s a lot more serious that you think. They’re trying to make sure she doesn’t…” Aidan didn’t want to say ‘kill anybody’, that would make Athena sound crazy. Then again, the whole thing sounded crazy. “That she doesn’t flip out.” That was safe.

Dean pondered this information. “That all sounds… absolutely conniving.”

“Which is why I said ‘no’.” Aidan agreed.

Dean looked at Aidan and sighed. Was that the only reason?


	7. Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time off is good for the soul. Time spent camping is even better. Unless you're Aidan Turner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame this entire chapter on my editor, W.D.. She came up with a one-sentence suggestion that became this entire chapter.
> 
> Also, the Richard/Lee innuendo is her fault, too. Of course, she was more explicit with her suggestions. A great deal more explicit.
> 
> Warning: Nudity is in this chapter.

Dean stopped packing his camping gear long enough to point to one of the brochures in Lee’s hands. “This one has some of the best views and trails. I’ve taken a lot of photos there. BUT, this one right here has shower facilities.” He pointed at another. “I don’t care, either way, but you might.”

Lee studied the brochures. “You mean I won’t have to shower for three days and nobody’s going to say anything? I’ll take the scenic one!” He laughed.

Dean chuckled as he went back to packing, shoving a sketchbook and a tin box of pencils in his pack. “I’m not sure I want to be around you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Seriously, I like that one better, too. I think the ground’s softer.”

“Are there any other camping sites that are as good?” Lee flapped the rest of the pamphlets at Dean.

Dean shook his head. “Nope, those two are the best within quick driving distance, if you ask me, which you did so... that was redundant. Okay. You know I don’t mind roughing it, don't you?”

Lee rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t have come to Dean’s trailer to ask if he didn’t already know that. “Of course I know. I’m taking a tent, a grating to use to grill on the campfire, and my cell phone for emergencies. That’s just about it. Well, sleeping bags and some games if it rains. You want to bring anything else? I’m bringing stuff for s’mores.”

“S’mores?” Dean wandered back to his camera bag to see if it was waterproof. He hadn’t thought about rain.

Lee put his hand over his heart and mocked collapsing to the floor. “You… Don’t… Know… What… A… S’more… is?”

“You’re not Shatner, get up. I can’t walk around you.” Dean nudged Lee with his foot. “No, I don’t know what a s’more is.”

“Does New Zealand have graham crackers? I know you’ve got the marshmallows and chocolate.” Lee picked himself up and plopped on the couch.

Dean went into his bedroom to find camping clothes. “Graham… biscuits? Of course we do,” he shouted back. “Great with tea. Why? Wait, you’re thinking about putting all three together? With the marshmallow and chocolate?” He poked his head out of the bedroom and tossed his pack at Lee. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s not. It’s one of the greatest recipes on Earth! It’s a camping tradition!” Lee argued.

Dean came back out and shoved clothes into the backpack. “You Americans are strange.” He checked under his sink for his spare first-aid kit.

“And you’re not? Have you SEEN some of the things you call breakfast? Baked eggs with spinach? What the hell IS vegemite? Mushrooms are NOT a breakfast food! Lastly, two words: Breakfast PIE. My piemaker character gets sick at the thought of that.” Lee argued.

Dean returned and started to fight with his pack and his spare medical kit. It didn’t want to fit in the bag. “There is nothing wrong with breakfast pie. Or mushrooms. And I don’t actually like vegemite, thank you.”

“The only good mushrooms are in Mario games,” Lee protested, helping Dean keep the bag open to get the medical kit to fit. “Or the ones that make you see funny things, which shouldn’t be eaten in the morning.”

“I hope you’re kidding about that,” Dean muttered, finally getting the kit into the pack.

Lee shrugged. “You never know…”

“Who else is coming?” Dean changed the subject.

“Orlando was in until he heard you were coming. Evangeline said no. Ian and Martin are out and… most of the Dwarves don’t know me well enough for me to ask.” Lee set the brochures on the side table. “I was hoping you’d talk to them.”

“Really?”

“I’ve got enough gear for everyone. I’ve got a huge tent and flashlights and just about everything else.” Lee took a moment to think, mentally checking off his equipment. “I love camping.”

“Waterproof matches?” Dean asked.

“Uhm… I don’t remember that…” Lee went through his mental checklist again. No, waterproof matches weren’t on there.

Dean rummaged through the cabinet under the sink until he found the matches. “I’ll finish up here. You go pack up.”

Lee dashed out of Dean’s trailer. Dean shook his head and grabbed another backpack for Aidan. Aidan would certainly like camping, right?

Five minutes later, Dean stood outside Aidan’s trailer with all his camping gear at his feet. Aidan, still dressed in his pyjamas even at one in the afternoon, took one look at the gear and crossed his arms. “No.”

“Come on, it’s camping. Can’t go wrong with camping.” Dean grinned.

“No.”

“Lee’s coming.”

“Lee’s cool. Answer is still no.”

Dean put on a puppy face. “Three days. We’ve got a three day break. It’ll be… what’s your word for it… wicked!”

“Wickedly no.”

“I thought Irish people liked the outdoors,” Dean teased.

“I’m from Dublin.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “People in Dublin don’t like the outdoors?”

“I don’t, so apparently not.” Aidan went back into his trailer and shut the door. Dean sighed, looking around him. Damn Irishman. Camping would be good for him! He saw Richard outside at the picnic table, reading over the script. An idea began to form.

Twenty minutes later, Dean had Richard, Jeb, Adam, and Stephen all outside Aidan’s door. Since Lee said he was packing most of the supplies, they’d grabbed clothes, shoved said clothes into bags, and followed Dean out for the camping excursion. Lee had had met them in the car-park and they’d already loaded their supplies into the Jeep Lee had procured and Jeb’s Range Rover. Then, they’d taken the Range Rover and parked it as close as they could get to Aidan’s trailer.

“Ready?” Dean asked. Everyone nodded. Dean cupped his hands like a megaphone and shouted, “Aidan Turner, come out with camping clothes or we will come in to retrieve you! You are surrounded! Surrender or we’ll come and get you!” No sound came from the trailer.

“All right, gents. Plan B.” Richard shrugged, moving towards the door. He produced something from his pocket, knelt down, and had the previously locked door open in about ten seconds. “There we go. Much better.”

Dean frowned. “I, uh, had a key to that door. You didn’t have to pick the lock.”

“Richard, where’d you learn to do that?” Adam pointed at the door.

“Practise,” Richard laughed, ignoring Dean. “Operation, ‘Get Aidan’ is now in effect!"

Dean, Stephen, and Jeb entered the trailer with Richard, where they found Aidan hiding in his bedroom, laptop open and blanket wrapped around him, still in his pyjamas. “Have even bothered to get dressed today?” Richard asked.

“No, it's a day off, why should I?” Aidan didn’t look up from the computer.

“Is that porn?” Stephen walked around the bed to see Aidan’s screen. “Hm. No. Don’t you know the Internet is for porn?”

“No, it’s not.” Aidan growled. “I’m just playing a game, okay? Why do you say things like that? You know what, never mind. I’m ignoring all of you, I’m not getting out of bed, and I’m staying right here and playing.”

“I say perverted things because you say things like that,” Stephen grinned. “And you get really, really uncomfortable. It’s fun to watch. Come on, let’s go camping.” He tugged at Aidan’s arm.

“I already told Dean ‘no’,” Aidan gave Stephen a scowl. “You can’t make me.”

“Yes, we can.” Richard grinned. “As we rehearsed!”

Stephen snatched up the blanket Aidan had wrapped himself in, tossing it over the Irishman and pulling it forward. Richard grabbed another part of the blanket, effectively trapping the youngest Dwarf in his own blanket. Aidan kicked at them, but Jeb grabbed onto the long leg and the three of them lifted Aidan, blanket and all, off the bed. Wrapped up, there was nothing Aidan could do to stop them or Dean as the Kiwi pulled out his camera for a few good photos. They carried and dragged the screaming and swearing Aidan out the trailer and towards the Range Rover.

“This is your fault, you know. You could have come out. I did warn you.” Dean said as he continued to snap photos of the irate Irishman.

“Adam, door!” Richard shouted as reached the Range Rover. Adam pulled the back door to the vehicle open, and they shoved Aidan unceremoniously inside and slammed the door. Adam scurried to the passenger side where he climbed into the front. Jeb was already at the wheel. Aidan managed to free himself of the blanket and pulled at the door handles, but Jeb had already thought of that. Safety locks were great when engaged.

As the other three were dumping Aidan into the vehicle, Dean retrieved camping clothes and shoes for his best friend, tossing them into his spare pack. As he left, he locked Aidan’s trailer using his key and went over to the Range Rover. He paused outside the door, steeling himself, then pulled it open as fast as he could and scurried inside, slamming the door behind him as quickly as he could. They had the Irishman fully trapped.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Aidan howled, shoving at his best friend and climbing towards the front of the car where Jeb and Adam were seated. Dean grabbed onto him and pulled him back.

“We’re going camping,” Adam said calmly. “Fresh air! Birds singing! Nature!”

“Let me out!” Aidan demanded.

“Can’t. Safety locks are on. I’m not going anywhere, either.” Dean smirked. “Jeb thinks the safety locks are very important. They’re needed to keep children in their seat.”

“I fucking hate you, let me out!”

“No can do!” Jeb put the motor in gear and started forward. “Car’s moving. Have to wait until the car’s not moving. Adam, you’re the navigator. Navigate!” The Kiwi chirped merrily. Adam nodded and pulled out his mobile phone. Lee had texted him the address.

Aidan gave up the fight and curled up in his seat, sulking. “I don’t like camping.” He muttered.

They were off to the campsite, whether a certain dark-haired Irishman liked it or not.

\----------------------

Lee and Richard arrived at the campsite after Jeb and the rest, having stopped off at a market for food and batteries. Richard wasn’t entirely sure what Lee was planning to do with the numerous bars of chocolate, but the American was happy with the purchase and that’s all that mattered. He’d made sure the American had gotten real food, too, though Lee was quite upset at Richard’s choice of canned beans and spam.

They rolled up in the jeep to find Dean and Stephen fighting with the tent and Adam sitting on the ground next to them, holding what looked like instructions. Jeb had taken up residence on a log, ‘supervising’ the tent construction. Aidan, finally dressed properly, was sitting by the fire pit, sulking. His shoes were set in front of him, and though he stared forlornly at them, he didn't put them on.

“We have food!” Richard declared, holding up the shopping bags as he took them from the car. “Who’s hungry!”

"Did you remember the canned beans? What about the sausages? Eggs? Toast?” Dean happily abandoned the tent project to give the bags of food in the Jeep a good look-over, peering into each. Richard handed the Kiwi and pair of bags and told him to help unload. Richard and Lee set up the coolers and put the food inside. Bags of dry food went on the ground by the fire pit until they got the tent set up.

"Yes, of course. Nobody’s going to starve.” Lee said as he carefully arranged some cold items into a cooler before liberally covering them in bagged ice. “What is it with you people and spam with canned beans?”

“What is it with this tent? It hates us.” Stephen waved a pole at Lee. "Wait, you have beans?"

Lee counted to five, reminding himself of patience. "Yes, beans and spam. Which are apparently necessary to camp with if you're British."

"Or Irish!" Aidan added, annoyed. "I'm still mad, but that makes me a little happier."

“Beans are vital. Hey, Lee, this is your tent, come help with it.” Stephen waved the pole at Lee again.

Lee glanced over at the Australian and Englishman who were mangling his tent. “Be right there. Aidan, Dean, can you get the rest of the stuff from the Jeep? I’ve got all sorts of things: chairs, sleeping bags, pillows, fire starters, and some board games if it rains.”

Aidan pointed down at his bare feet. "No shoes! I can't walk around a campsite without shoes! It's dangerous."

"They're right in front of you." Dean pointed at the shoes in front of the Irishman.  "I put them there."

"I don't see them," Aidan crossed his arms and looked away. Dean laughed and went to unload Lee's car. Clever Irishman.

“Lee is there a knife in there?” Aidan scowled, still refusing to move from the fire pit.

“Got several of those,” Lee said as he walked over and tried to figure out what they’d done to his poor tent.

“Good, I need it." Aidan held out his hand. Lee reached into his back pocket for his spare knife. He almost had it all the way out when Aidan said: "Once I kill all of you I can steal the car and go back.”

Lee slowly slid the knife back into his back pocket. “Then I don’t think I should give it to you.” He turned back to Stephen and Adam. “You’ve got the short poles in the long pole slots, we’ve got to switch it.

Jeb nodded sagely. “I told you that you were doing it wrong.” Then he wiggled his eyebrows, laughing. Stephen and Adam gave him a dirty glare.

Richard rummaged through the jeep until he found the games. “Playing cards, Clue… is that like Cluedo? Lord of the Rings Monopoly, Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit… I think you’re taking the project a little too seriously.”

“Clue is Cluedo,” Lee affirmed. “Leave that in the Jeep until we get the tent set up, I don’t want the pieces to get lost.”

“Aidan Turner, with a tent peg, by the fire pit.” Aidan frowned Nobody paid him any attention.

 

************

 

“I can’t find Dean,” Aidan said at Richard.

Richard didn’t look up from his book or move from the comfortable camp chair. “You’re finally talking to us again?"

“Dean’s missing,” Aidan repeated, kicking at Richard's chair. Richard took a moment to look down, noting Aidan's shoe-clad feet. It looked like the Irishman had given up on his protests. “I haven’t seen him in an hour. His pack is gone, too.”

Richard glared up at the Irishman towering over him. The kid had better enjoy that, it was the only time he’d ever be taller than the Englishman. “He probably went to take some photos. He’ll be back.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus, but came up with nothing. Damn. “Really, he’s a grown-up. He can handle himself.”

“This is the wild, what if there’s wolves out there?” Aidan insisted.

“Then he’ll get eaten,” Richard shrugged. Did New Zealand have wolves? His stomach was starting to get a little… nervous. Dammit, he shouldn’t be worried about Dean. Dean was an adult!

“Adam, Richard won’t help me look for Dean!” Aidan shouted.

Adam didn’t look up from his game of Cluedo with Lee, Jeb, and Stephen. “Then go look. It’s a campsite, he can’t go that far.”

Aidan sighed dramatically. “Nobody’s going to come look with me?”

Richard marked his place, put his book down, and climbed out of the oh-so-comfortable chair. “Fine. If it will shut you up, I’ll go. Anybody else want to come?”

“Is he going to try to kill me again?” Lee asked.

“I wasn’t actually trying to kill you the first time,” Aidan scowled, crossing his arms.

“Sure, right. I’ll buy it. Guys, I think it was Professor Plum in the Kitchen with the Candlestick. Okay, King Under the Mountain, let’s go find your idiot nephew.” Lee laid down his cards and rose from the game.

“You can’t do that, you’ve got to be in a certain spot…” Adam argued.

Stephen checked the envelope with the answers. “Doesn’t matter, he got it right. Game over. Let’s go investigate the lake.” Stephen suggested. Adam sighed and nodded.

“I think I’ll stay and take a nap,” Jeb glanced at the camp chair. “It’s calling my name.”

“Richard, Lee, see you later!” Stephen waved as the two kings left.

Ten minutes on the trail and it was clear why Aidan didn’t want to come camping. His shoes kept getting stuck in every little hole possible, he whined when twigs caught his clothes, and he demanded to know if every spider he saw was poisonous. It didn’t help when Lee kept telling him that every spider was, indeed, deadly.

“Dean, Dean, where are you?” Aidan shouted at the foliage around them. “Deeeeeeaaaaaaan!”

“You know, if you do that, the bears will hear you.” Lee mentioned nonchalantly.

“Bears?” Aidan repeated.

“And wolves,” Richard added. “You were worried about the wolves earlier, weren’t you?.”

“Bears are easy to deal with, though.” Lee continued. “Brown bears you make yourself look bigger, black bears you make yourself look dead.” He stopped in his tracks and looked confused for a moment. “Or is it the other way around?”

“I think you’re supposed to hit wolves on the nose,” Richard looked wise. “’Course, that’s hard to do with them snapping at you. I suppose if you avoided the teeth...”

Aidan looked at each of them in turn and paled. “Bears and wolves?” He squeaked. He turned back to the forest and marched with purpose down the trail. “Dean! DEAN YOU COME HERE RIGHT NOW, YOU BLOODY CRAZY KIWI!”

Lee held up his hand for a high-five. Richard obliged.

“That was cruel, but very funny.” Came a voice from above them and off to the right. The two kings turned to the voice, leaving Aidan to wander the trail ahead of them

“How did you even get up there?” Richard asked, turning his head sideways.

Dean laughed from his perch on an old-growth tree. “I’ve always been good at climbing. Wasn’t hard. There was this gorgeous bird of paradise someone’s let loose, I couldn’t resist. She didn’t even move until after Aidan started shouting, but I still got a shot! As our Aidan would say”: ‘wicked’.”

“It sounds wrong when you say it,” Richard laughed. “Coming down?”

Dean shook his head. “After the hell he gave us? Nope. Actually, I have an idea. Give me some time.”

Lee’s grin could only be described as ‘maniacal’. “Twenty minutes enough?”

“Yeah, sure, that’s good. Before you go, though, can you get him to come back… maybe three feet that way?” Dean pointed. “I’ll have a great shot of him panicking.” Dean grinned.

Lee and Richard grinned at one another. Hassling Aidan was a very entertaining camping pastime. Acting was never so much fun.

Richard managed to call Aidan back to them, feigning some sort of panic. Aidan returned, looking annoyed. “What?”

Richard made sure he was standing where Dean would get a good shot. “Turn around,” Richard asked of Aidan. He huffed and turned his back to them, facing enough towards Dean to let Dean get some shots, but not enough that Aidan would see the Kiwi. Richard hoped it was a good angle for Dean's photos. “I thought so. Lee, you know what kind of spider that is?”

“Ah… I think my book on it said three white spots meant deadly. Those look more beige, though, don’t they?” Lee cocked his head to the side.

“There’s a spider on my back?!” Aidan froze. If one was listening for it, one could hear a slight repeated ‘click’. Richard and Lee were professionals, they didn’t even grin.

“Yeah, it’s up by the collar. I think those look more white.” Richard tsk’ed

“Beige,” Lee argued, shaking his head.

“GET IT OFF!” Aidan shouted, turning round and round.

“Fine, here.” Richard pulled his boot off and used it to smack Aidan’s shirt. “There, I think I got it. I don’t see it, anymore.”

“Did it move?” Lee asked. "I think it moved. Yeah, there it is. Here." Lee pulled off his boot and used it to hit Aidan in the upper arm, hard, knocking the Irishman sideways.

Aidan was ready to cry. “Please tell me it’s gone…”

“I don’t see it,” Richard confirmed.

Aidan turned back and hugged Richard. “Thanks, mate.”

Richard sighed and patted the young man on the shoulder. “You’re welcome. Come on, let’s look for Dean.”

As Aidan turned back onto the path and started shouting for Dean again, Lee and Richard shared another high-five. The trio headed down the trail for around ten minutes, Aidan shouting for Dean, before Richard and Lee suggested they backtrack to and see if Dean had gone down another path. Dean met them close to where they’d left him. There were a few… changes. Dean’s clothes were in shambles, cut to ribbons on one trouser leg and the back of his shirt. Red covered the slashes and ran down the Kiwi’s leg. Dean had dirt on his face and extremities. He was limping, babying the leg with the torn trouser, and his hair was untidy. “Aidan, Richard, Lee!” He reached out towards them, gasping. “Thank God!”

Aidan sprinted forward to Dean, asking what happened. Dean collapsed onto the ground as the Irishman reached him, letting his eyes close. “Dean? Dean!” Aidan shouted.

“I won’t bleed out, they’re shallow.” Dean said in gasping breaths. “I… I found a bear cub, thought it would make a nice photo. Looks like Mama wasn’t very far away. I got away. She only got me a little. I’ve got…"

“Dean, oh God, Dean, we need to get you back to camp and… and tell someone.” Aidan’s eyes were the size of saucers.

“Medical stuff... in my pack... I’ll be okay.” Dean slumped down even further. “Just… tired…”

Richard ran up and started shouting orders. “Aidan, go back to camp, tell them we found Dean. Lee, help me with him, will you?”

“No, I want to stay, I’ll help if Lee…” Aidan protested

“GO BACK AND TELL THE OTHERS!” Richard ordered, bringing his Thorin voice out. Aidan jumped and ran back up the trail.

As soon as Aidan was out of sight, Lee burst out laughing. “What’s the red stuff?”

“Pomegranate juice, directly from the fruit. It was hell to make sure there weren’t any seeds. I am SO glad I packed it!” Dean sat up, grinning. “Too bad I couldn’t get photos of that. Serves him right for saying I’m a bad actor.”

“You want some help?” Richard asked.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine. Scraped my leg up a bit getting down, but that’s it. Here, hand me my pack, we’ll put the bandages on.”

Richard and Lee went about putting bandages on a few spots, cleaning up the juice and making it look good. They even stained one of the bandages with a bit more juice Dean had left over. It was perfect. They headed back to camp, only ‘helping’ the ‘unconscious’ Dean when Aidan came back up the trail.

 

***************

 

As dusk set in, Lee insisted that they try s’mores. He’d poked marshmallows on the end of metal skewers he had brought; he’d originally insisted on sticks from the campsite, but the rest of the campers had more brains than that and refused. He’d shown each of them how to hold the marshmallow over the fire and roast it, then explained putting the chocolate and graham biscuits together with the marshmallow.

It didn’t go… quite as expected. Stephen kept burning his (they were fairly certain that was intentional), then he'd dangle the marshmallow over his head and let the burning treat fall into his mouth as it melted off the skewer. Adam decided that he didn’t fancy the chocolate or the graham biscuits, but he happily loaded his skewer up with marshmallows and roasted them to perfection. Dean and Aidan gave up after Dean lost his third marshmallow into the fire pit and ate their chocolate bars. Jeb decided that the vegemite he found in their supplies went better with graham biscuits than marshmallows. The only one who did a decent job at making at eating s’mores, besides Lee, was Richard. Richard perfectly roasted the marshmallows, transferred them to the graham biscuits, and finally sandwiched the chocolate on there at the exact right moment for the chocolate to melt just slightly. Lee, despite claiming he was very practiced at it, wound up with marshmallow all over one hand. Lee smiled at his fellow king and wondered if there was anything Richard couldn’t do perfectly.

“So, does anyone want a ghost story!” Richard asked after the s’more debacle.

“I’m the youngest here, and I think I’m a little too old for ghost stories.” Aidan rolled his eyes.

“Nobody is too old for ghost stories.” Jeb argued. “You have one, Richard?”

“There’s a good one about the Tower of London.” Richard leaned back in his chair and started the tale. “A long, long time ago, the Tower held prisoners of the state. Political prisoners, mostly. There was one, though, an old man. He’d been put in there for knowing about a plot to kill Queen Elizabeth the First. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been there, but it was long enough that his family no longer came to visit. His days were filled with boredom and sadness. He’d sit and cry for hours on end; everyone in the tower could hear him.

“Those other prisoners, they all came and went, but it looked like the Queen had forgotten him. Perhaps, even, had simply left him to rot. He begged for forgiveness from the guards, from the Queen, but none came. One night, the old man finally received a visitor. A priest, tired but young, ascended the staircase to the old man’s cell. The priest stared into the window of the old man’s cell and the old man begged him to let the Lord forgive him. The priest, however, stared off into the distance, unmoving, unblinking. Finally, the young priest muttered a prayer, then left.”

“So scary,” Aidan rolled his eyes.

“Shhhh!” Adam hissed.

“Keep going!” Stephen grinned, leaning forward.

Richard nodded. “This happened for several days. Every night, the old man heard the priest footsteps ascend the staircase. The priest would arrive, stare into his cell, mutter a prayer, and then leave. The door to the old man's cell was solid, save a small window, so he did not hear the priest say a prayer to any other prisoners. One night, the old man finally grew tired of it. When the priest came to his door, he shouted out ‘Why does thee torture me like this? Leave me be! I wish for nothing but to die! Prithee for the Lord to take me!’” Richard even did an old man voice to make it more real.

“But the priest did not respond. He simply stared into the cell for a long time, muttered the prayer, then left.” Richard continued. “The next night, the priest came up the stairs, thump, thump, thump in his old shoes. When the priest came to window, the old man asked ‘Why art thou here?’ The priest finally spoke. ‘Because souls cannot rest until the Lord lets them.’ He said his prayer and left.”

Stephen clutched at the blanket he’d wrapped around himself. “This is getting good.”

“As the days passed, the priest looked more and more worn, more tired. One night, when the young priest came, the old man asked the priest what church he came from. The priest told him ‘I am from Saint Paul’s Cathedral’. The old man told him ‘I know that church. A spire, it burned. It ran rivers of flame and metal.’ He mustered up his courage and asked ‘Why does thee come only at night, all alone? Art thou a phantom, is that when thee… thee died, when the spire fell?’ The young man looked sad, muttered his prayer, and left. Many more days passed, and the young priest came back to the window each night. The old man hid from the phantom whenever it came, frightened. But the priest always followed the same pattern, as haunts were known to do, of staring into the cell before muttering a prayer and leaving.  Finally, one night, when priest stared into the room, a strange sound, like bells, came from just outside the cell, where was standing."

“The old man was even more afraid, so afraid that he called out from his hiding spot. ‘That sound, what was it?’ He demanded to know. The priest looked startled. ‘I have received a text on my mobile. I have to go, my friend. I will see you tomorrow and every day after until you can finally leave this place in peace.’ The priest left the ghost for yet another night, knowing he'd be back the next day to pray for the soul forever trapped in the cell.” Richard leaned back in his chair. “That’s it.”

Adam’s eyes were wide. “I’ve got goosebumps!”

“Brilliant!” Dean agreed

“Add something else to the list of Thorin’s majesticness – ghost stories.” Stephen leaned back, wrapping the blanket around himself. “That was creepy.”

“I know some true ghost stories, but that one’s my favorite.” Richard said with a small bow of his head.

“How about another?" Lee begged, the fire reflecting in his eyes.

“No, one per night.If I tell them all right now, these two won’t go to sleep. I need to make sure my nephews get their rest.” Richard pointed at Aidan and Dean.

“Come on,” Lee frowned.

“Maybe I’ll tell you another story once they’ve gone to bed.” Richard smirked. Lee looked… interested.

“Sod off,” Aidan muttered. “It wasn’t even scary.”

Dean leaned over and poked Aidan with the blunt end of his skewer. “Stop being a spoilsport.”

“Speaking of my nephews,” Richard rose from his camp chair. “I think the younger one is grouchy because he’s tired. It’s pretty late.”

Jeb stretched and doused the campfire. “You’re right. We old geezers need our rest, don’t we?”

Stephen grabbed a torch and led them all to the tent where Lee gleefully passed out sleeping bags and they all settled onto the ground. Richard by the door, Lee next to Richard, then Jeb, Adam, Aidan, and Dean.

“Have a good night, everyone.” Stephen said as he rolled over and made himself comfortable.

The other campers followed suit with the well wishes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

****************

 

Lee and Richard were the first two awake the next morning. As they slowly rolled up their sleeping bags, trying to keep quiet so the others could sleep, Lee noticed something very interesting about two of his fellow castmates. Apparently, in his sleep, Aidan had rolled over to Dean and wrapped an arm around the blonde, snuggling. Dean had consequently shifted closer to Aidan. Both were still dead to the world.

“Where’s my phone?” Lee hissed, searching his sleeping area. He found his jacket and put it on, it was chilly at the campsite in the morning. “Oh, come on, it’s got to be somewhere. This is perfect revenge for the air horns, I need this picture. Richard, have you seen my phone?”

“Not since yesterday,’ Richard whispered back.

“For crying out loud, it’s got to be somewhere!” Lee groaned, picking up his sleeping bag completely and searching the ground. “I HAD it last night!”

“Had what?” Dean rolled over and blinked sleepy eyes at Lee. “Adam ate most of the marshmallows.”

“Not the marshmallows, my phone. I needed to take a picture.” The American sighed. “Too late, now.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“There was a great photo I was going to take, but I can’t now.” Lee looked annoyed as he turned and glared at Dean. Richard coughed to hide his laugh.

“Oh, okay.” Dean yawned. “What are we doing today?”

“It’s camping. You don’t plan camping.” Lee looked around one last time for his mobile before giving up. Maybe he’d dropped it outside.

“There’s a lake nearby. Swimming sounds good.” Dean rolled back over and nudged Aidan. “Aid, swimming?”

“No. Water's cold and bed's warm.” Aidan snuggled closer to Dean.

“This isn’t a bed and I am not a pillow,” Dean took his own pillow and hit Aidan with it. “Stop that and get up.”

The two princes decided that hitting each other with their pillows was an acceptable pastime, which woke Stephen, Adam, and Jeb. Most of them finally rolled up their sleeping bags and left the tent. Richard made breakfast – eggs from the cooler and toast. Stephen went for a hike while Dean pulled out his sketchbook and pastels and found a scenic archway of a fallen tree covered in vines and resting over a trail he wanted to capture. Aidan went back to sleep and didn’t come out of the tent until the sun was high in the sky. Jeb talked Adam and eventually Aidan into going swimming. Lee made another frantic search for his mobile outside, but to no avail. Following that failure, he sat down next to Richard and chatted about everything and nothing.

They spent a lazy day, not really doing much of anything. It was wonderful. They wandered in and out of camp, finding different things to do. No stress, nowhere to be, just relaxing and enjoying the outdoors and each others' company. Even Aidan couldn’t say that it wasn’t nice to just rest for a while.

It started to rain in the late evening, thankfully one of those dull, drawn out drizzles and not a roaring thunderstorm like Ian was so fond of. They all ran for the refuge of the tent, taking the snacks and coolers with them. Dean and Adam zipped up the tent and held it shut on Stephen, who was the last in because he’d been on a trail. They’d refused to let him in until he said the ‘password’, which was apparently a bunch of rude words strung together.

As Stephen toweled off, Lee produced the playing cards and challenged them to poker. Richard and Jeb seconded this idea.

An hour later, after a supper of cold canned beans and spam, which Lee was not at all happy about, the gentlemen all sat on their sleeping bags, arranged in a pinwheel fashion, staring each other down. It had started innocently enough, they’d doled out the remaining marshmallows (the few that were left, after Adam’s ravaging of them) chocolate bars, and three beers each as ‘currency’.

Some players were better than others.

All of them were better than Aidan.

Having run out of ‘currency’, Jeb and Aidan had resorted to betting their clothing. Jeb was only down two shoes and a sock. But Aidan was far worse off. First a shoe, then the other. Then both socks. His jumper and shirt went, with the argument of “We’re all blokes here, stop staring.” His belt was next.

Now Aidan was down to his trousers, and he had a decision to make.

“Come on, either bet or fold.” Adam sighed.

Aidan stared at his cards, then the pile. Dean had won Aidan’s shirt and had placed on the pile in lieu of his treats. Most of the rest of his clothes were either held by Richard or Adam (who knew Adam had an excellent poker face?), but he had the chance to get his shirt back. He glanced at his cards again. Two tens. Not good. But maybe he could bluff his way…

“Fine, I’ll bet.” Aidan stood and shimmied out of his jeans.

“Woohoo, take it off, baby!” Jeb whistled.

“Shut up.” Aidan scowled, tossing his trousers on the pile. He didn’t see Dean’s face turn red and the Kiwi stare at him for just long enough for it to be inappropriate. “There.”

“Look at that face. He hasn’t got the cards.” Stephen shook his head. “I'll call.”

Everyone showed their cards. Adam wound up with the pile and gleefully gathered his prize. “Another round, gentlemen? Well, without Aidan, of course.”

“What, I can still play!” Aidan scowled. Dean’s face turned even redder at the prospect of what Aidan had left to bet.

Richard raised an eyebrow at him as he shuffled the cards. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Aidan, you, ah, don’t HAVE a poker face. As much as I’m sure Dean wants to see you naked, I’m not in the mood for it.”

“Meh,” Jeb shrugged. “No worse than when we went swimming today.”

“What?” Dean looked up.

“We didn’t bring any swimsuits.” Adam explained. “So… we skinny-dipped. We wound up with some slightly cold bits.”

“I’m winning back my clothes,” Aidan insisted. “You’d better deal me in.” Richard shook his head and dealt the cards.

Aidan grinned when he saw them. A flush! Ha! He knew it was a good idea to keep going. When his turn came around, he looked at the cards, then himself. “Ah, do I need to toss these in the pile or can we use a marker until someone wins it.”

“Nobody wants to touch your underclothes,” Adam rolled his eyes.

Aidan nodded, then assented on the bet.

Cards were shown, and Aidan happily put his flush out for all to see.

But Lee had four 3’s.

“You dirty, bloody, damn… I don’t have the words…” Aidan gaped as he stared at the cards. “You cheated. You had to. There is no way you could have… no…”

“Time to pay up,” Lee grinned.

“Wait, wait, we’ve got to do this right!” Stephen cheered. “Give me the torches, all of them.” As they were passed to him, Stephen turned them off, one by one, until just one was left. One that he pointed directly at Aidan. “All right, we’ve got a show!”

“I really, really worry about you.” Adam sighed, shaking his head.

"You should. Come on, mister vampire. Boxers off!” Stephen wiggled the light at him.

“Guys, maybe we should just call it a marker and not let him play anymore.” Dean tried.

“What, you want to let him get away with this?” Richard asked. “I thought of all of us, you’d…”

“Be the one to stop it, yes, I am!” Dean interrupted. He rubbed his forehead. Damn. Stupid hormones and his imagination were working together to make his life hell right now. His body was not listening to his brain, and he had to shift in his seat. “He’s my best mate, come on, I’ll cover his marker.”

Lee shrugged. “You can have the boxers, but they still have to come off and STAY off until he pays me back.”

“Two beers and a chocolate bar,” Dean haggled.

“Three beers and he still keeps them off until he pays YOU back.” Lee grinned. “You two will never blast air horns at me again, will you?”

Dean ducked his head. Revenge. Oh, Lee was just being evil. “Define 'paying me back'.”

“I know,” Adam grinned. “You’ve been drawing a lot lately. You could use him as a model.”

“I’ve been drawing NATURE,” Dean protested.

“No clothes is about as natural as you can get,” Jeb agreed.

"I'll dance, I'll put on a show! Is that good enough for payment?" Aidan suggested.

“How 'bout he does a dance for us in his birthday suit?” Lee grinned.

“You can't be serious…” Dean sighed.

“Come on, even the American doesn’t mind the nudity. When the American is okay with it, you know it’s fine. It’s not like he’s got something you don’t have. I believe it was Aidan's idea and he's also the one who said that we’re all blokes here.” Jeb poked at Dean.

“I'm outvoted here, aren't I?” Dean pointed a finger at them. They all tried, and failed, to look innocent.

“All right, Aidan, start the show!” Stephen declared. Stephen and Adam began to hum out of tune to give the Irishman something to work with.

Dean shifted in his seat again as Aidan rolled his eyes and put on what he called his ‘working face’. While their companions teasingly shouted things at the young Irishman, Dean kept his eyes on the tent floor in front of him. Aidan was apparently giving quite the show. The blonde didn’t dare look up, he wasn’t sure his brain could take it. The blood was already leaving his head and heading southward with just the thought of Aidan in a state of total undress, looking up would certainly make him uncomfortable for the rest of the night. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Aidan plopped down in his seat next to Dean and placed a towel in his lap. Dean didn’t even glance over at him. “Dean, it's your marker, you want me to put the shorts back on, or..."

“Yes, please.” Dean nodded, wicked thoughts running through his mind. He didn’t dare look at his friend. He couldn’t trust himself to.

“Sure,” Aidan slipped the boxers back on and rubbed his arms. “Wow, it is REALLY cold here without clothes.”

Stephen turned on all the torches again. “You’re hairy, how are you cold?”

“Because I’m used to being hairy AND having all my clothes, that’s how.” Aidan shrugged. He leaned over to his best friend. “Hey, Dean, you’re a walking heater…”

“You are not cuddling with me while not wearing clothes,” Dean shoved Aidan back. He didn’t think his hormones could handle it. “Get in your sleeping bag.”

“No fun at all,” Aidan sulked as he climbed into his sleeping bag. “There. Won’t even let me warm up with you…”

Richard snorted and Jeb tried not to laugh. Stephen said what they were thinking. “Dean has no issues with warming you up…”

“And Stephen’s going to have a broken nose if he doesn’t shut up,” Dean glared at him. Aidan had apparently ignored the comment from the Aussie, thankfully.

“So… looking at the piles, Richard and Adam won, Aidan lost.” Jeb grinned. “What’s next?”

“Well, we could play Lord of the Rings trivia.” Lee suggested.

“No,” Adam shook his head. “I’ll lose.”

“But I’m GOOD at trivia! And it's not STRIP trivia!” Aidan argued.

“Aidan, you can’t remember what we had for breakfast.” Dean was grateful for the distraction. “You ask why I photograph everything? It’s so you’ll remember it better.”

“What about a game of ‘I Have Never’?” Lee asked. He got a bunch of confused looks. “It’s an easy game. One person starts out saying ‘I have never’, then lists something they’ve never done. If you’ve done it, you have to take a drink. We’ve got enough beer. A sip each time.”

“Drinking game? I’m in.” Stephen nodded. Adam and Jeb agreed, followed by Dean and Aidan. Richard was the only one who seemed uncomfortable with it, but he wasn’t going to let them get the better of him. He agreed to play.

They passed out the remaining beers and made themselves comfortable in the tent. Lee looked over the group and grinned. “I have never… jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.”

“Sod it all, he hates me.” Aidan growled as he took a drink, followed by… Richard? When did Richard jump out of a plane?

“Rich, you go.” Lee grinned.

“I have never… uh… damn. Give me a second. I have never… no, wait, I did that. I have never… bugger… I think I did that, too. I have never answered my mobile while on the toilet.” Richard finally said. Stephen and Adam took drinks, then the mantle was passed to Dean.

They went about their game until it was long past dark. Richard, who had managed to go through three whole bottles of beer during the entire thing, had to come up with stranger and stranger things… either that or the alcohol made him think of things like ‘I have never kissed an alpaca’. Stephen was next, having gone through two and a half bottles. Dean, Aidan, and Jeb all tied for third with a somewhere between a bottle and a half and two bottles, and Adam came in last, having just finished his bottle when they decided to quit and go to sleep. They all put their sleeping bags back where they'd been the night before.

“Guys, guys, has anyone seen my phone?” Lee asked, looking drunkenly around the tent floor. "I wanna call Eva.... E... Evangeline. Or maybe text her. Yeah, that would be good.”

“It’s not a good idea to drunk-call or drunk-text women. They get angry.” Richard said. “Go to sleep, we’ll find it in the morning.”

Lee looked confused for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Night.”

“Night,” was echoed throughout the tent.

"Night, Evangeline!" Lee shouted out. "See, I called her!" He sounded smug.

"Shut up, Lee." Richard rolled over and threw an arm over the American to keep the idiot from getting up and wandering the tent.

 

**********************

 

They were packing up the vehicles the next day when Richard ‘reminded’ Dean that his bandages needed to be changed when they got back to civilization. Dean spent the next ten minutes trying to figure out how he was going to explain the lack of wounds or scarring to Aidan when they returned. Oh, well. Hopefully Aidan would forget to look for scars. Adam had also returned Aidan’s shoes after securing a promise from Aidan to teach him how to swear in Irish.

Lee was wandering the campsite, checking everywhere he could possibly think of trying to find his mobile. It just wasn’t anywhere. He NEEDED that phone, it was a link to his agent! He’d finally gotten tired of searching and had taken a break, putting his jacket back on and sitting on a log. “Damn, I don’t know what’s happened to it. I must’ve dropped it.”

“Lee, come here, you idiot.” Richard motioned to Lee. Lee sighed and complied, turning around as Richard pushed him to do so. There was something on his back, a pressure, and then Richard was asking him to turn around again. Lee had something small and black shoved at him. “Don’t put Velcro on your phone. It likes your jacket.” Richard said, laughing.

Lee stared down at the mobile and back up at the older man. “You have to be kidding me."

“Nope,” Richard laughed. “It’s been there all three days.”

Lee shook his head, shoved his mobile in his pocket, then started to pack away his gear. “Stupid Velcro. Stuck it on there to keep the phone still while I was driving. How did I not notice that all three days?”

Richard glanced at the ground and then back up at Lee. “I have an answer, but you’re not going to like it.”

“What?

“You’re an idiot.” Richard answered.

“Wait, you said it was there all three days? You SAW it?”

“Of course I did.” Richard wrapped an arm around the American’s shoulder.

Lee scowed. That Dwarven King was going to be in trouble when they got back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine having an editor who, as you're reading this together, is adding in very explicit details about things that Dean and Aidan or Richard and Lee can do in the tent. Repeatedly. That's the reason why there's strip poker. The "I Have Never" game was much more extensive, but much of it was removed for length and because W.D. can come up with very interesting things from innocent comments.
> 
> As I said before, I blame this entire chapter on W.D.. If she hadn't told me that Lee liked camping...


	8. Turning up the heat

For two weeks, Ian found that it was nearly impossible to separate Aidan and Dean. All the scenes they were shooting required the two of them to be together. This meant that they went to make-up together, they spent their downtime between shots together, and they left together. They even went out the pubs together – forsaking the rest of the cast with terrible excuses when they were invited.

Maybe Mark was right.

Ian hadn’t quite wanted to believe it. After all, they’d pinned a great deal of hope on the two of them. Yes, they had brought others into the project, just in case, but those two were the ones that Ian truly had wanted to put into Athena’s way the most. They were both bright (well, reasonably bright) young (well, compared to him) men; handsome, very similar and yet very different at the same time.

And now it seemed they were more interested in each other than Zeus’s precious daughter.

However, Zeus did not become the ruling God – the one that even other pantheons feared – by giving up.

To Hades with giving up.

It was a nice, calm day inside the soundstage when Ian decided to corner Aidan. Martin had helped by distracting Peter with both a few ideas on Bilbo and then some lewd comments – for someone so quiet, Martin could definitely be rude when he felt like it.

With a little bit of focus, Ian directed a nice little power surge to the main breaker. Darkness spread over the soundstage like ink spilled over parchment. Muffled shouts were heard. Beorn’s home, the current set, suddenly became a place of bumps and bruises; everything was out of scale for the actors, so they had a great deal of trouble being able to tell where everything should be. He heard Richard shout rapidly, and rather creatively, in a mixture of English and Khuz-dul – at least someone had paid attention to the Dwarvish language lessons, if only the swear words.

Peter started shouting directions: flashlights were needed, possibly a medic, depending on if the stumbling resulted in more than bumps and bruises. And why were the backup lights not coming on? What happened to the generators? Ian was proud that Peter always thought ahead. Too bad Ian did, too. He’d taken the generators out earlier that morning. In the mere seconds since Ian had destroyed the breaker, Martin had appeared by Ian’s side. Apollo had always had the best night vision. “Aidan and Dean are together, forty paces, slightly left. Need help?”

“I can manage.”

“You’ve probably got three minutes before Fran gets here,” Martin added. Fran would get the lights ‘fixed’, if only by cheating and using her powers. Ian could see Peter’s face lit up by a phone – He'd probably realized his wife could help with this. Only a few of the crew, and none of the cast, had their mobile phones with them, and the little light the phones gave just wasn’t enough to make a difference in this enormous space. Eyes were slowly adjusting to the low light, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Ian marched over to boys. Well, young men. Young compared to him. Hell with it, he was several thousand years old – they were boys. There were two forms, right where Martin said they should be. Ian wasn’t sure which one was his target until he heard the New Zealand accent of Dean to the left. Ian snatched up the costume of the one on the right, he’d meant to grab the arm, but the brunette archer had shifted on him, and dragged Aidan away. Aidan didn’t even have the chance to squawk.

Graham met them behind the wall of Beorn’s home. At first, it looked light he was holding a lighter, but upon closer inspection, he was actually holding a small flame between his index finger and thumb. ‘Cheater’, Ian thought with a grin. They shoved Aidan up against the wall, thanking their lucky stars that Peter made sure all his sets were structurally sound. Graham held him there while Ian looked intimidating. He was the ruler of the Gods, he excelled at looking intimidating.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people? Ian, what the hell?” Aidan was shouting, but in the chaos that had erupted from the power failure, he wasn't heard above the other voices. Still, they didn't want to take the risk. Graham put his hand over the lad’s mouth. Aidan’s eyes went wide and he didn’t make another sound, though he did land a kick on Graham’s shin – Graham was grateful for the muscle suits.

Ian glared. “You listen here, and listen well. I can perfectly understand a relationship, and I can and will condone it, but if you had at least told us to begin with, instead of making us guess about it, we could have made arrangements. I understand that’s why you don’t want to look for Athena, but you cannot be obvious about it. You still have the publicity for these films and your own career to think about.”

Aidan froze for a moment. Then he tugged at Graham’s hand, and the Scotsman pulled his hand away enough to let the Irishman speak. “What. The fuck. Are you TALKING about?” Aidan kept his voice low, he didn't want Graham's hand over his mouth again.

“Your relationship with Dean,” Ian looked exasperated, even in the miniscule light.

“Relationship?” Aidan looked even more confused. Ian sounded annoyed.

“Yes, your relationship. You’re together nine days out of ten, and on the tenth, you call each other! Mark told me about your cuddle sessions on the couch! I overheard Lee and Richard talking about how you two slept while camping. You should have told us, we told you that we can make arrangements for Athena after she shows up!” Ian scolded, furious that they'd kept the whole thing a secret.

“You think because Dean and I are…are friends that I don’t want to look for Athena? No, I don’t want to look for Athena because first of all, I don’t know how to do it. I’m not your ‘hero’ material. I don’t know how to be that so how I can possibly be bait for it? Best I can do is pretend, and frankly, if she’s as smart as the stories say, she’d pick up on it pretty quick. Secondly, this is absolutely insane – the whole Goddess thing and everything, and Dean was right, it sounds like a really bad rom-com. And third, I almost told Dean about it when I got so pissed I wound up at the medic building. So, yeah, I think I’m a little bit of a liability.” He crossed his arms in a very un-Kili fashion and gifted them with the best glare he could muster in the darkness.

Graham spoke next. “Ian isn’t talking about friendship, Aidan.”

Aidan didn’t process that right away. He lost his glare and frowned for a moment. Ian finally spoke up. “We’re talking about a romantic liaison. The way you sleep on him on your couch, things like that.”

“That wasn’t…. I was tired! I sleep when I’m tired! When I sleep, I grab things. I try really, really hard not to do it, but I still do it. Deano doesn’t seem to mind, that’s why I can fall asleep with him there. We’re not… I’m not gay!” Aidan felt like he was back in Dean’s trailer after having found himself snuggled up with the Kiwi in bed. “Dean’s not gay! I don’t THINK he’s gay… Look, we’re not in any sort of…. Relationship.”

The lights came back on then, glaring white stage lights and ambient lights; the whole thing. Either Fran was blowing a lot of energy, or someone had fixed the electric. It was likely the Goddess's doing, magic'ing the lights on until they could get everyone out of the building and the electrical panel fixed. Graham scowled at the lights, but didn’t lower his hold on the Irishman trapped against the wall.

Apparently, it took Dean less than a second to realize his best friend and ‘brother’ was missing. Ian heard the Kiwi’s voice call out uncertainly “Aid?”

“The first thing Dean looks for when the lights come back on is you and you say you’re not in a relationship?” Ian raised an eyebrow.

“We’re not. Really. We’re just really, really good friends. You’re seeing things that don’t exist.” Aidan squirmed.

Graham snorted. “We’re experts on things that don’t exist, if you’ve forgotten. You know, since most people don’t think we exist anymore.”

“Either way, I’ll calm Peter down about your relationship. He was worried that it would affect the way you could do publicity, but I disagree, now that I've talked to you. What you two have won’t hurt the hunt for Athena, I think you can be professional enough during the publicity.” Ian explained. “Graham, put him down, please.”

Aidan huffed as his feet finally touched solid… set again. “Look, nothing is going on between me and Dean that isn’t platonic.” For someone who liked to pretend he was dull, he used a great deal of large words, Ian noted. “And like I said, the whole Gods thing and Athena thing is crazy.”

“You don’t have to sleep with her, lad. Just play bait a bit to get her back with the rest of the Gods. We’ll handle the rest.” Graham said.

“I’m going to do my job and hopefully that’s enough, all right? I’m attractive, I’ve got a good share of fans, but I’m not going to go looking for a Goddess that honestly, I’m probably not good enough for anyway. Athena, Goddess of War and Strategy and all this other crap?” Aidan frowned. “I’m an ACTOR. No logic or war or strategy involved! She’ll toss me in a second. Not worth it. I’ll do my job, but I’m not going to do all the extra stuff. Do you even know what she looks like?”

“Athena was also the Goddess of Crafts, like weaving and stuff.” A voice came from behind them, lit with a certain New Zealand twang. Ian’s eyes widened, Graham whipped around, and Aidan sunk down against the set of Beorn’s house. Now he’d done it. Dean stood not six feet from them, having located his missing ‘brother’ behind the set. He had a confused look on his face and he was focused completely on Aidan. “Aid, what you just said…. You sound mental. Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” He started towards his best friend.

“How much did you hear?” Ian frowned. Once again, the rumble of thunder came to them, even in the soundstage. It must’ve been close.

Dean shook his head, finally reaching Aidan’s side. “You don’t think he’s mental, do you?” Aidan wasn’t crazy, he knew that he spent enough time with the Irishman to know that. Ian spent a lot of time with him, too, so he'd know. They wouldn’t throw Aidan in the loony bin, would they?

Graham’s shoulders slouched. “No, we don’t think he’s crackers. If he is, we’re right there with him. Dean, what did you hear?”

“That you’re looking for a Goddess, for Athena. That you want her to back with other Gods, whatever that means.” Dean frowned. “You know, this reminds me a lot of the Almighty Johnsons. Is this a spinoff that’s being planned, or something? I think Aid would do great in it. Hey, we’d get to work together longer!”

Ian took a deep breath. “Yes, it does sound a bit like your Almighty Johnsons. Your producer happens to be a minor God – Norse, not Greek, but our pantheons are on good terms. That was one of the reasons why Peter had you pegged for Fili, but Rob got in the way. The story of the Almighty Johnsons may attract her attention further, reminding her.”

“Soooo…” Dean looked at the three of them – people he trusted, people he was friendly with. “you’re all either nutters or…”

Graham snorted. “All this life we’ve managed to keep secrets, and in less than a year we’ve blurted it out three times.”

“Too many of us on one project, we’ve gotten complacent with each other. Aidan’s knowledge didn’t help.” Ian shook his head.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not crazy?” Dean’s eyes went wide.

“They’re not,” Aidan spoke, finally. “I’ve seen it. If you want a new jacket, Jimmy can make one. Out of thin air.”

“Ah,” was all Dean said before his eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped to the floor.

Graham rushed over to the Kiwi, checking his head for bumps and his pulse for irregularities. “He’s fine, I think. I’m not a medic, though. May want to get Martin over here.” Aidan hovered nervously over his best friend, unsure of what do, until Graham barked at him to find Martin. The lad just about tore through the set to find Apollo. 

Ian sighed. Well, this was a mess.

 

**************************************

 

Ten minutes later, the soundstage had been evacuated and Dean had been moved to one of the offices. Liz was busy patching up Richard in a different room. He’d knocked his leg on something and sliced it wide open through the muscle suit when the lights had gone out. That left Martin to deal with Dean. Apollo wasn’t a God of Healing for nothing, thank you very much.

“Heat exhaustion, I’d say.” Martin nodded. “Slight dehydration, too.I’ve done some work on him, but this situation usually takes more time than the usual stuff. The air conditioning going out on the soundstage didn’t help, though.” That was closest to a crass comment he’d made since the lights went out – clearly he wasn’t feeling well himself.

“And we all know whose fault THAT is,” Peter glared at Ian.

“I couldn’t get Aidan by himself, it was the best I could come up with.” Ian defended himself.

“You mean the most dramatic,” Fran chided at him. “You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

The other Gods that were part of the cast were sitting around the cot James had conjured and set up for Dean. They felt more than a little responsible – it was when Dean had walked up on ‘God stuff’ that he’d passed out, after all. James was fiddling with some sort of pen knife and a block of wood, Mark had been steadily writing things into a notebook – what looked to be a humorous story, and Graham was rolling a ball of silly putty he kept in a pocket. Martin had been busy figuring out what was wrong with Dean and trying to use his abilities to patch Dean up, but now was sitting still in his chair, eyes closed, as though he was begging for a vision. Fran had been rearranging the keys on her lanyard, and Peter was texting just about every other God on their side – some, like Simon and Patrick, with vital updates on the situation; others with random trivia. Ian was the only one not nervously and subconsciously using his or her powers.

“I’m sorry,” Aidan’s voice was a near whisper, staring down at Dean. “I didn’t mean for him to…”

It was the first time they’d heard a real apology from him, a somber, honest apology instead of one of his cheeky grins and half-hearted apologies for something stupid he’d done. He sat in the chair closest to Dean, at Fran’s insistence, and had taken off most of the Kili costume, even if his prosthetics and hair were still in place.

Graham slapped a hand on the Irishman’s shoulder, wincing a bit when he realized it was a little too hard. “You didn’t do anything. We were trying to force you into something you didn’t want to do. If we’d listened, this wouldn’t have happened.” He paused. “Well, Dean may still have passed out, but that’s because it was too hot. I’m surprised we didn’t have more Dwarves drop. These suits are murder.”

Mark didn’t bother to look up. "Adam got sick, too. And Ken. They were standing right next to Dean before he wandered off to find Aidan. They didn’t go completely unconscious, but they looked pale when we got out of there. That place warmed up way too fast. Faster than it should have. With that and the costumes, it was just too much.”

Ian’s head snapped up at Mark's statement. He should have noticed before, should have realized before. If Rob had talked, and told someone they were looking for Athena, that would certainly get the notice of other Gods.

Aphrodite had ears in the film industry... and Aphrodite had a series of male Gods that would do anything for her... especially Hephaestus.

And Hephaestus loved fire.

Graham could only produce small flames, and none of them generated heat unless he used the flame to catch something else on fire. But Hephaestus had always been able to generate heat, even without fire. Someone with the ability to generate heat had used the confusion to target Dean: the only ones truly affected by the heat had been closest to Dean. The clincher was that Stephen didn’t collapse, and his costume was the heaviest. This wasn’t good.

They had a spy in their midst.

A spy that Zeus would love to castrate for attempting to defile his daughter, even if it had been thousands of years ago.

Damn Rob and his mouth!

Ian took a calming breath, letting it out slowly. They didn’t need a major storm right now. As it was, he could already hear the patter of rain on the office’s roof. In this state, he could easily churn up a hurricane if he wasn’t careful. Think of summer showers and the smell of grass after those rains. That helped a bit. “Two things. Peter and Fran, if you could, look into anybody newly hired at the studio. Start with the most recent and go back to the date Rob left. Look into everyone, let me know if anyone comes across as unusual. Particularly an affinity for forging things.” Fran nodded, she knew who Ian was worried about. “Next, Aidan, I want to apologize to you.”

Aidan looked up at Ian, confused. The old man continued. “You didn’t ask to be dragged into this. We were forcing our views on you, not taking into account what you might be feeling about all this. We should have never told you in the first place, I think it would have been easier on you if we hadn’t.”

“But the work would’ve been the same, wouldn’t it?” Aidan frowned.

“Probably. We would have likely used other means of coercion to get you to do the publicity, but it would have been the same amount.” Peter said.

“So the only thing that changed was the fact that I knew about it,” Aidan’s voice sounded dull, quiet. It didn’t suit him.

Peter closed his eyes. “If you want to leave the project-“

“NO.” Aidan stood up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. He glared at them with all the ferocity youth can bring. “Are you kidding? This has been one of the greatest projects I’ve ever been on – probably will EVER be on. I just…” He sunk back down into his seat again.

“You’re scared,” James finished.

“No,” Aidan lied. He was a great actor, but a terrible liar.

Mark gave Aidan a wan smile. “Welcome to being a hero, kid.”

“I’m not that.”

“You’re right,” Ian smiled warmly. “The type of hero you’re thinking of is long gone. We live in a modern world. All the dragons have been slain, all the gorgons and minotaurs banished. The sirens no longer sing, and the Gods make movies. But I will tell you one thing, every hero I ever met was terrified. I can understand that you don’t want to be controlled, but I doubt that’s the only thing driving you right now. Again, we won’t force you, but you may want to take a look at your motives for backing down. When we first brought this to your attention, you seemed keen on it. What changed?” He squeezed Aidan’s shoulder and gave a pointed glance at Dean. “We’ll head out and leave you two alone.”

“We’re not together!” Aidan mumbled. That earned him a few chuckles as all the Gods filed out of the room, Martin leaving with a witty remark about how newlyweds ‘should always have time to themselves'. It was good to know that their Hobbit was feeling better.

A few minutes of silence passed, then: “Well, that was interesting.”

“Dean, you’re awake?”

“Yeah. Still feel like shit, but I’m awake.” Dean didn’t open his eyes, but he did grin.

“How long?”

“Ah, since Martin was standing over me. He was mumbling something. Then he said I had heat exhaustion. Never done that in my whole life. Passed out. Interesting experience. Don’t try it.”

Aidan let out a dry laugh. “I don’t plan to.” He looked down at his hands. “So… you heard everything, huh? Some crazy shit, that is.”

“Fuzzy on some of it, but yeah. Sounds like they’re backing off on their plan to get you laid.”

“That’s not what it is. It’s a plan to get Athena laid.” Aidan shoved at his friend a little.

“Explain it to me,” Dean grinned, opening one eye before deciding the light was too bright and closing it again. “I’m not going anywhere any time soon. Wait, can you get me a water first?”

Aidan obliged, heading off to the vending machines and returning with a bottle of crisp water, which Dean nearly downed in one go. As Dean relished the cool water, Aidan explained all he knew about the ‘plan’, from the start of it all (and Rob’s part) to the fact that if they didn’t find her, she could go on a killing spree. He emphasized the bait part of the plan, stressing that they didn’t expect anything romantic from him or Dean, just that they were trying to find her, and that they’d find someone else for her if he had no interest. By the end of it, Dean had finally sat up and was sitting cross-legged on the cot. Dean nodded, listening to the whole thing, and at the end, gave Aidan a pointed stare.

“So, they basically want us to look cute, run around do a bunch of publicity – which we’ll get paid for – and do some behind the scenes stuff?” Dean frowned.

“I think so.”

“And you’re scared?”

“No,” Aidan frowned. Dean smirked. “Okay, yes.”

“Why?” The Kiwi asked. Aidan stopped at that. Why was he scared? It was such a stupid thing to be scared over. If he hadn’t been annoying Ian about medieval architecture that day (why had he been interested in medieval architecture that day? He couldn’t even remember) and hadn’t been there when Rob stormed out, he’d be blissfully unaware of the whole thing. He wouldn’t have known they were looking for Athena, let alone cared if she liked him or not. And then there was the whole thing about what Dean thought. Would Dean think he was crazy for doing all this for a girl he’d never met? Dean certainly thought it was weird the last time they talked.

“I dunno,” was the best Aidan could come up with.

Dean shoved at him. “You told me that you went to acting school because it was something you could fail at and that gave you thrills. You jumped out of an aeroplane because Jimmy dared you to. Now you're backing down because you’re scared? That sounds crazy, crazier than this whole thing. You love doing things that scare you.”

“This is different.”

“How many girls have you dated?” Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“I dunno, a lot. I wasn’t exactly counting.”

“How many have you dated that you hadn’t known for ages?”

Aidan froze at that. He went through every girl he remembered dating – either he’d gone to school with them or he’d worked with them. Even the few one-offs were with girls he’d known. Hell, the bloke he’d kissed had lived at the dorm right next door to his own. Nobody picked up in bars, nobody from blind dates – had he ever had a blind date? He couldn’t remember actually accepting when his friends had set him up. “None.”

“I’m starting to get the picture, here. You’re SHY.” Dean smirked.

“Fuck off. I’m not. I’m an actor!” Aidan protested. “You should see me in publicity interviews, I talk like crazy!”

“That’s because there’s a camera there, and it’s not to just one person. You know, I’ve seen shy people talk like crazy about absolutely nothing because they don’t want people to know what they’re actually thinking – you do that a lot.”

“I’m not,” Aidan laughed. “Shy! I made friends like crazy when I first got here.”

“You had to. Survival. New place, new people, you really didn’t have a choice.” Dean pointed out. “But I notice that since I’ve gotten here, you haven’t gone out and made any new friends.” Aidan was about to protest when he realized Dean was right. Thinking about it, Aidan realized that Ian had been the first real friend Aidan had made on set, and he clung pretty close to the man. Dean had been the last, and he clung even closer. Was he really that pathetic? He still spent time with the other Dwarves, but it wasn’t the same. And he’d intentionally pissed off most of the Elves. Even he and Evangeline hadn’t really talked outside of work, and they were supposed to be love interests.

“Ha, I knew it.” Dean grinned.

“I really fucking hate you right now.” Aidan mock-scowled at his friend.

“Everyone’s got their ticks. Makes us all unique. Wanna know my secret?”

Aidan grinned back. “If it’s a good one.”

“I’m terrified of giraffes.” Dean nodded, looking serious.

Aidan raised an eyebrow. “Giraffes?” Dean nodded. “You’re from New Zealand! Where would you find a giraffe?”

“At the zoo,” Dean said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t stand ‘em. My brother, he’d go up and feed the suckers, and I’d be as far as possible from them. They have this weird tongue, and they’re way too tall, and…”

“I think you’re bullshitting me.”

“You never know, I might be. But then, I might not be.” Dean grinned.“I’m an actor, after all.”

“Let’s just hope Athena isn’t tall, then.” Aidan laughed.

 

 ***************************

 

Ian was woken from his nap by incessant banging on his trailer door. The storm he’d accidentally brought upon the studio had lulled him to sleep, pleasantly and wonderfully. It was so hard to get to sleep when you got old. He was beginning to look forward to the next life. At least then he’d get some rest.

“All right, all right, I’m coming. This had better be good or – Dean?” He opened the door to find a Kiwi on his doorstep.

“Hello, it’s really stormy out here, but that’s probably because you’re pissed off. Can I come in, Zeus?”

Dean found himself hauled into the trailer by the old man. “Don’t say things like that where everyone can hear you!” Ian chastised. He went over to his miniscule closet and pulled out a towel for the young man. “Aidan explained it all, then?”

Dean took the towel and rubbed his hair with it. Stupid rain. “In lots of detail. We talked through it, he’s doing better with the whole thing. You’re welcome, by the way. I think I calmed him down.”

“Calmed him down?”

“For a supposed God, you’re pretty dense. You know why he was so freaked out, right?” Dean refrained from rolling his eyes, who knew what Zeus would do to him if he was intentionally disrespectful.

Ian sighed. “Because we’re asking him to get involved in business belonging to us Gods and he’s a mortal. We’re asking him to be bait and basically prostituting him a bit to do so.”

Dean actually rolled his eyes at this point. “We’re actors, making us do interviews to get girls’ attention is sort of part of the job. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“He’s shy when it comes to people. Like, dealing with actual people, not playing a role or auditioning or acting. I’ve met a few people like that.” Dean shrugged. “Can I sit on the couch?”

Ian retrieved another towel from the closet so Dean wouldn’t soak his napping spot. “Put this down first. And yes, I’ve met people like that. A number of them, now that I think about it. They can put aside the shyness in certain situations, where they feel they must, but have trouble with the one-on-one. You talked to him?”

Dean nodded, laying down the towel and then making sure he sat directly on it. It wouldn’t do to annoy the Head of Olympus – or whatever Zeus called himself. “Yeah, I did.”

Ian frowned. “And what do YOU think of all this?"

“I think it sounds like someone took the show Almighty Johnsons, got drunk, and decided it was good idea to make it even more crazy than it already was. Except in real life. I think it’s bit messed up and very strange. I think that if you’ve made me one of your ‘candidates’, like Aidan thinks you have, that I’m flattered and little mad at you, too.” He kneaded the towel for his hair and waited for a reaction. Ian grimaced, but didn’t say anything. “So you are using me for bait, too, then.” Ian gave a slight nod. “First of all, I think I would have liked it better if you’d asked me first. Second of all, you do realize that even though I’m bi, I’ve got more interest in blokes than birds, right?”

Ian blinked and filed that information away for later use. Maybe the misconception about the relationship wasn’t a misconception at all, at least not on Dean’s part. It would explain why he didn’t mind Aidan using him as a pillow. It also explained the whole camping situation. “So you want no part in it, either.” Ian said.

Dean made a face. “You’re joking, right? I’m on the set of one of the largest movie epics in history, and I’m being bait for a freaking Goddess. You wanna talk about a chance of lifetime? How many blokes can say that they had a Goddess look at them and say ‘he’s okay, I’ll take him’?”

“You DO realize that this is Peter’s plan, not mine. He was the one who chose the bait for her, he’s always been excellent at sending messages. You won’t flatter me by saying I chose you. This is, after all, my daughter we’re talking about. I’d rather want to make sure her suitor is… a good match for her.” Ian eyed Dean. “I have yet to know if you are or not.” He didn’t bring up the fact that he’d been impressed when Dean had stood his ground against them to get Aidan to the medic.

“I’m still here, aren’t I? You haven’t scared me off yet.”

“There’s one more thing. Something Aidan didn’t know. Something I didn’t think about until the soundstage overheated today. Rob knew about this when he left. He was angry, screaming and shouting that we were all crazy. He probably talked, after he left us, and we aren’t the only Gods in the movie industry. Someone knows we’re actively looking for Athena now. We have a spy on set. This could get dangerous, especially for those we’ve chosen to lure her in.” Ian admitted.

“I was scared shitless when I came here. That really didn’t change it.”

 Ian looked up at Dean, a new respect for the young man blooming. “All right, then.”

“One question,” Dean held up a finger. Ian nodded for him to continue. “How many times have you tried this? And how many times have the people known they were bait?”

“Athena is one we have had to find almost every single time. In the old days, we kidnapped her a few times, when we were able to identify her. Nowadays, it's not so easy. We’ve had to use bait so many times that I’ve lost count. As for the ones who knew they were bait,” Ian grinned. “Very few of them. Most of the time we can keep a secret, but on this sort of project, it just wasn’t possible. And that was two questions.”

Dean leaned forward, drumming fingers on his thigh anxiously. “Let’s go for three. How many reacted the way I did when they found out?”

Ian thought about it for a moment. “Very few. Aidan’s reaction is much more common, though the shyness being the reason is a little unusual. Most of the time they run off, like Rob did. That would be why we try to not let the secret out. The ones who do stay are usually worried about if people will think they’re crazy. We’ve had a number of people involved with us wind up being put through therapy. Some were even killed, centuries ago.”

“So I’m a weird one, then.”

“You and Aidan are both definitely unique.” Ian asserted.

Dean left Ian’s trailer with a smile on lips and one of Ian’s umbrellas in hand. Life just got a little more interesting.

 

*****************************

 

They were supposed to be going over the new lines Phillipa had inserted into the script this morning. Really, they were. It wasn’t much, just some shots on the riverbank after the barrels, and Fili and Kili had only had some slight tweaks to their lines, so instead they were in Dean’s trailer, laughing like a pair of fools and attempting to kill each other’s camouflage-clad character in one of Dean’s Xbox games.

“No, no, no, you fucking cheat!” Dean scowled, turning his controller sideways as if it would help.

Aidan laughed and mashed the buttons on the Xbox controller even harder. “You can’t cheat, it’s a video game.”

“That doesn’t keep you from calling me a cheat!” Dean protested. “How come you can call me a cheat but I can’t call you one?”

“It’s your game. If anybody knows how to cheat, it would be you.”

“Fuck off, and STOP USING THAT FLAMETHROWER.” Dean growled.

“Never! HAHAHA!” Aidan laughed as he aimed the flamethrower at Dean's character again and let him have it. The tally was racking up in his favor.

As the days of filming had gone by, Dean had talked Aidan into calming down about Athena, reminding him that his ‘best friend in literally the entire world’ would be right here with him the whole time. They promised that they wouldn’t do a single extra interview without the other. If it was dangerous, which was actually likely to incite Aidan’s daredevil streak, they’d go through it together. And darn it all, if Athena wanted to meet them, she was just going to have to meet both of them at the same time. Dean promised he'd look out for the Irishman, and that he'd be there when Aidan needed him. They’d both explained to the Gods that they were on board with this crazy plan, despite the danger. It was, after all, exciting, unbelievable, wonderful, thrilling, and this opportunity didn't present itself to just anybody.

Aidan had calmed down (only a little) when the behind-the-scenes videographers came around, and he and Ian had gotten back into good terms. In fact, Ian had declared Aidan and Dean his ‘adopted’ sons, and between the old Lightning God and the Messenger God, Aidan and Dean found themselves with a lot more freedom since Dean had the talk with Ian two weeks ago. No leniency in filming, of course, but Aidan got away with eating more pastries than he had previously and Dean had been allowed an internal office to use as a darkroom. Aidan was allowed to borrow company vehicles a lot more often, though his driving still made them nervous. Fran had also been more lenient on them, but only just.

Even the other Gods in the cast had gotten into the habit of spoiling them a little. Dean had wound up with a new leather jacket of his own and an unlimited supply of film from James (though James had been extremely insistent on nothing electronic, and no books). Mark loved telling them every comedic story he could find in his memory, along with every dirty joke that had existed and would ever exist. Graham tried to get the two of them interested in history, then pottery. Failing in both of those, he decided to teach them little weaponry tricks he’d picked up over the centuries. For a self-proclaimed pacifist, Graham knew how to use some dangerous toys. Martin continued to be a shit to them, but it was all in fun.

Not that they didn’t spend time with the rest of the cast. Stephen would frantically search for a pen and paper every time Mark had a new story to tell them (which Mark almost always did when Stephen was around) and it was obvious that Mark was taking on a fairly parental role over the comedian Stephen and the quiet Adam. Richard would wander by when Graham was doing a new weapon lesson and usually wound up joining them. Martin's comments during filming were getting lewder and lewder, and Jeb was taking up the role of making the lads laugh during filming when Martin couldn't. Everyone would go out drinking in different groups depending on their mood. Granted, Aidan and Dean didn't always get along with Orlando, but the Elves, along with Luke, were finally starting to warm up to them.

Of course, there was payment that had to be made for the goodies coming from the Gods. Ian expected them, at least once a week, to show up at his trailer to listen to a story or lesson from one of the classic Greek tales. Aidan would listen in rapture, while Dean wondered how much of the story was coloured by Zeus’s own interpretation of events. Fran was working with their agents to book interviews for them, even years ahead. Peter joyously kept putting them together in shots as much as possible, keeping them in the forefront as long as Aidan hadn’t gained too much weight from the pastries. The behind-the-scenes videographers hounded them just a little more than anybody else, which Aidan wasn’t too completely keen on. But still, the arrangement was working well.

So now, they were in Dean’s trailer playing video games instead of working. Oh, they’d catch hell for it tomorrow if Fran ever found out about it. They would probably wind up awake until one in the morning to make sure they had the new lines down just to avoid her wrath.

“I’ll bet you can’t even lift a flamethrower in real life,” Dean ground out.

“I’ll bet I can hold one better than you can,” Aidan retaliated.

“Well, you don't know how well I can hold one." Dean tried very hard not to laugh. "THAT didn’t sound perverse at all." He glanced at Aidan with a smirk on his lips.

“Shut it. I’ll bet I could pick you up and throw you… you short person.”

“At least I don’t hit my head on the cabinets in my trailer,” Dean retorted. “And I really doubt you could pick me up.” ‘Well, at least physically’ Dean added in his head.

Aidan didn’t catch the innuendo. “I can do eighty push-ups in one go. And I know how to pick people up.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, you MIGHT beat me on push-ups. Big deal. I’ll still bet you couldn’t pick anybody up.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll bet I can do it to you right now. Then, I’ll have beaten you with the flame thrower AND gotten you up.”

Dear God, did Aidan even realize what he was saying? Every time Dean heard him talk like this, he swore he’d never give Aidan beer again. And every time, he’d cheerfully pass the alcohol out. For someone who was decidedly ‘not gay’, Aidan could really drive a guy nuts. “I don’t think you could lift me.” Dean snorted. Why was he encouraging this? How much had he had to drink?

Aidan paused the game. “Come on, stand up.” He drew himself off the couch and motioned for Dean to stand.

“You’re not serious about this, are you?”

“'Course I am. Now up.” He waved his hands at Dean in a ‘come at me’ motion.

“You’re drunk,” Dean sighed. 

“Yeah, so are you. Come here.” Aidan insisted, holding his hands out to Dean.

Dean contemplated it. Aidan was normally pretty easygoing when he was drunk. The chances that Aidan would just drop it were pretty high. But, it would be funny to see if how far Aidan would go. Dean’s curiosity won out. He stood, staring down the Irishman. “Fine. So how’re you going to get me up, huh?”

Aidan squinted his eyes at Dean for just a moment, looking sort of like he did whenever he was trying to do one of those newspaper puzzles. He nodded to himself once, like he’d figured out what ‘14 down – cheesy bunny’ meant, then pulled at Dean until he was standing right in front of him, face to face. In one graceful move that Dean didn’t think Aidan was capable of, Aidan moved down and then up, catching Dean by his hips and lifting the Kiwi high enough to touch the ceiling of the trailer.

Dean let out an gasp, grabbed on to Aidan’s shoulders, shouted obscenities, and didn’t let go until Aidan had set him carefully back on the ground. Aidan gave the older man a pure smirk of evil. “Told you so.”

“How the hell did you learn to do that?” Dean took a few calming breaths and steadied himself with the wall. He knew Aidan was decently built, but he hadn't realized how strong the brunette actually was.

Aidan shrugged, giving Dean a sly grin. "I'm just majestic, I guess." He dove back onto the couch, unpausing the game and giving himself a few seconds extra to hunt down Dean’s character before Dean could snatch up his own controller and try to move the poor little pixilated soldier. “You sort of learn lifts when you learn dancing.”

Dean would’ve raised an eyebrow if Aidan had been looking at him. “You can dance? The guy who trips over the hitch for his own trailer and hits his legs on the picnic tables?”

Aidan scowled at the TV. “I like dancing, thank you. And just because inanimate objects hate me doesn’t mean that I can’t dance. I used to make Lenora and Russell dance with me. Russell was terrible at it. Tripped over his own feet and usually wound up with one or both of us on the ground.”

“You’re not gay, but you were dancing with a guy?”

“It was all in fun, all right? You get bored, out there in Bristol with nothing to do.”

Dean shook his head. “You’ll have to teach me.”

“You can’t dance?” Dean could hear the disbelief in Aidan’s voice.

“Not formal dancing, no. It never came up,” Dean hid his embarassment. “So I didn’t bother. I can ride horses, shoot billiards, fight with swords – done a lot of that, actually – but I’ve never bothered to learn to dance. Probably should, huh? It would be terrible if I couldn’t dance at my own wedding, or something.”

Aidan grinned, even though Dean couldn’t see it next to him on the couch. “I’ll teach ya. Right now.”

Aidan had great acuity when it came to space, but he didn’t always watch what he was doing, so Dean took everything breakable from his living area and stashed it away in the towel closet.

As soon as the room was cleared, Aidan stood face to face with Dean. "This one's easy. Waltzes are really basic, it's just one...two... three... one...two...three." Aidan demonstrated. He grabbed Dean's hand and put it around his own waist, put his own hand on Dean's chest, then clasped their other hands together. "You've got to learn to lead."

The Irishman was awfully close... were waltzes supposed to be done this close? Their chests were practically touching and all Dean would have to do to steal a kiss would be to lean forward on his tiptoes a bit. They practiced the waltz, though Aidan kept forgetting Dean was supposed to be leading and they wound up bumping into one another more often than not. It didn't help Dean's concentration.

Two hours and another beer or two later, Dean had finally mastered a simple waltz. Laughing, Aidan and Dean were attempting to master a tango together, striding from the living room all the way down the hall to the bedroom and back. Dean had eventually given up and let Aidan lead, and in truth, they weren't making much headway. Dean was too busy concentrating on where Aidan's hands were to bother with focusing. Dean had just gotten brave enough to move his hands slightly southward on Aidan's backside - which Aidan didn't seem to mind - when a rush of wind outside of Dean’s trailer picked up and the pitter patter of sprinkling from the sky became a deluge.

Aidan was the first to the door, pulling it open and gaping as the sky had opened up and was dumping torrents of water on their little homes. “Holy… wonder what pissed Ian off…”

Dean stood behind his friend, arm around Aidan's waist, moving the Irishman so he could see. “Y’know, not all of the bad weather here is Ian’s fault. We get some really bad storms sometimes. Not even seasonal, it just comes up. I’ll bet most of the worst storms we’ve had weren’t Ian at all.”

“You mean this is NORMAL?” Aidan’s eyes widened. “I thought….”

Dean laughed. “What, you don’t have rain in Ireland?”

“Not those huge storms, no! It just sticks around for ages and refuses to go away, but if we get something like this,” Aidan motioned to outside the trailer. “It’s pretty rare. I just thought it was Ian having a fit or something.”

“Nah.”

Aidan frowned at the rain and wind. “I don’t think I could make it back to my own trailer…”

“Well, if you can stay upright, you should be fine. I guess that’s where us short people beat you tall people – lower centre of gravity.” Dean may have only been three inches shorter than Aidan, but Aidan made it sound like he was a midget. It was nice to have some revenge.

Aidan shrugged, then shut the door. No sense in getting the interior of the trailer soaking wet. “Well, since I don’t have your centre of gravity, I’ll just stay here. Let's Tango!”

Dean blinked. His alcohol-addled brain was coming up with something, something important. Something about how Aidan crashing on his couch was not such a good thing. Now, what was it?

Aidan laughed and tugged Dean back to the miniscule amount of floor space they had in the trailer. “See, you keep moving like THAT, but it should be more like THIS.” He demonstrated the motion to Dean for what had to be the third time, taking a hold of Dean's hips and moving them for the Kiwi.

Dean grinned and purposefully made the motion wrong, making Aidan groan loudly and hold on tighter, demonstrating the motion to Dean again.

Whatever Dean’s brain was furiously working to figure out, it could wait.

 

*********************************

 

The storm didn’t let up. By one A.M. both Aidan and Dean had given up on Aidan returning to his trailer and Aidan had stolen a spare blanket to sleep with on Dean’s couch. Aidan was merrily away in dreamland when something outside jarred him out of his sleep.

Aidan sat up, clutching a rolled up portion of his blanket – when was he EVER going to grow out of that – and stared at the window. His sleepy brain couldn’t figure out what it was that had woken him, only that it was loud and not pleasant. Thunder, probably thunder, he reasoned. Looking out the window, even in the dark, he could tell the storm was still at full-force. He tilted his head to the left and then to the right, trying to crack his neck. Sleeping on couches was hell. He clicked on the light and sat for a few moments, trying to work the strain out of his neck and shoulders.

Whatever alcohol they’d downed was mostly out of Aidan’s system by now. Being sober, in the middle of giant thunderstorm, inside a teeny trailer without much protection was not fun. He missed Ireland, where the storm clouds just sat for ages and didn’t pretend they were part of some crazy marching band.

He wasn’t scared of the storm – hell no. At worst, he was a little unsettled – human beings tended to not like loud noises or heavy rain with only a bit of metal over their heads, and Aidan wasn’t an exception to that. Still, he was a fully grown adult and perfectly capable of reason, even if he didn’t always use it. He knew that Ian wouldn’t let lightning hit him, or Dean, or any of the cast or crew, really. He was positive Ian had set something up with that. There hadn’t been a single lightning strike on the studio premises since Ian had arrived. Hell, Aidan had gone out in played in a few of the storms, back before Dean had told him that they weren’t Ian’s doing. Probably not his brightest moment, but at least it had been fun. No harm done.

Really, he hadn’t had a good reason to kip at Dean’s trailer. Their doors were only about twenty metres apart, and it wasn’t like the rain scared him. He could have simply run home, taken a shower to warm back up, and put on dry clothes. If he was honest with himself, it was because he hadn’t wanted to leave at all. He had half expected Dean to toss him out into the rain and tell him to go home once they had started to get tired.

So why hadn’t he?

Dean was too much of a nice guy, sometimes. Granted, he had his days, but most of the time, he was genuinely a nice person. Even on the first day they’d met, the first thing Dean had done was apologize to him. Really, it should have been Aidan that should have apologized. Dean’s dimpled smile had thrown him for so much of a loop that he couldn’t remember his own character’s name and-

Aidan shut down that train of thought. Dean was his best friend, and probably wouldn’t appreciate that thought. They’d been working together for several months now, there was no reason to let those thoughts come in and change their working relationship. It was downright rude. Not to mention what Aidan’s parents would think. Granted, Aidan didn’t find himself attracted to very many men, not when there were women with squishy bits and soft skin that he could think about, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he shouldn’t appreciate when someone of the same gender was easy on the eyes. And Dean was certainly –

Oh, for the love of God! Aidan got up, annoyed at himself, and began to fold the blanket. He needed to go back to his own trailer. Aidan was just putting the blanket back in the tiny closet when Dean wandered out of his bedroom, clad in just his boxers. “What’cha doin’?” He let out a giant yawn, not bothering to cover his mouth.

Aidan glanced at his best friend, trying not to stare. “Heading back,” he answered. “Rain’s let up.”

Dean looked out the dark window, then back at Aidan. It was a typhoon out there! “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Couch isn’t comfy. I wanna sleep in a bed.” Aidan argued. “Speaking of sleep, what are you doing up?”

“Light was on. It woke me up.” Dean pointed to the ceiling lights Aidan had turned on.

“Sorry, mate.” Aidan looked genuinely sorry. Dean shrugged in response. “See you in the morning, okay?” Aidan turned to leave.

Dean may not have won any awards for being the strongest person on set, but he was certainly quick – Martial arts training at a young age had embedded that in him. He stepped forward, reached out, and snatched up Aidan’s wrist and pulled him back towards the Kiwi before the Irishman had the chance to touch the door handle, let alone open it. Problem was, once he’d done that, he didn’t know what he was going to do next. He started intently at Aidan for a few moments, tired brain processing what he’d done.

“You said you’d fall over in the wind,” was all Dean could come up with.

“I can clean up at my trailer.” Aidan shrugged.

“It’s too late. You’ll never get back to sleep."

Aidan gave Dean his trademark cheeky grin. “I’ll just sleep on set. Nobody’ll think anything weird of it.”

That was true. Aidan nodding off was a regular occurrence. Still, Dean had Aidan HERE, and there was no reason for Aidan to trudge back through the wind and the rain simply because he wanted to sleep in a bed. After all, they both knew for a fact that two people could fit in Dean’s bed. “C’mon.” Dean tugged Aidan towards the bedroom.

Aidan paled. “Deano, what are you doing?”

“Just go to fucking bed, okay? I’m tired, you’re tired, and this is stupid.” Dean yawned again

Aidan let himself be dragged to the bedroom, where Dean shoved one of his spare pillows at him and told him to lay down. Dean made sure Aidan was in the bed before doubling back to cut the lights off and then returning.

Dean lay next to the Irishman, watching Aidan as he drifted back to sleep. Aidan was out within minutes, and he quickly wound up rolling over in his sleep and wrapped one arm around Dean. The Kiwi brushed a stray bit of curly hair out of Aidan's face and then allowed himself a small grin before succumbing to sleep himself. Victory.


	9. Where there's heat...there's fire.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fires are terrible things... 
> 
> Also, Richard and technology don't get along..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you to W.D. for all your help. You truly are spectacular.
> 
>  
> 
> Certain actors are Greek Gods, reborn again and again. For ease of reading, here's a cheat sheet:  
> Ian McKellen - Zeus - King of the Gods, God of an extensive array but most commonly seen are weather, lightning, sky, and keeping the others in order.  
> Patrick Stewart - Poseidon - Brother to Zeus, God of the seas, waters, horses, and earthquakes.  
> Christopher Lee - Hyperion - god of watchfulness, and the stars and sun.  
> Martin Freeman - Apollo - First son of Zeus, God of healing, prophecy, music, and poetry.  
> Peter Jackson - Hermes - Son of Zeus, God of messages, borders, travel, and transitions.  
> Fran Walsh - Hecate - Wife of Hermes, Goddess of protection, magic, witchcraft, crossroads, and associated with keys or torches. She was usually a household protector.  
> James Nesbitt - Iapetus - God of mortality, sometimes associated with creation.  
> Graham McTavish - Prometheus - Son of Iapetus, God of creation, legends say created humankind from clay. Also stole fire from Zeus to give to humanity.  
> Mark Hadlow - Gelos - God of laughter and joy

They were shooting outside in one of the many gorgeous fields of New Zealand. It was finally cool enough to shoot the scenes of the Dwarves running the Orcs from without losing anyone to heat stroke, and everyone was making a day of it. While the camera crew took a break, the actors enjoyed the beauty around them.

Mark and Richard were lounged comfortably on chairs, and Jed had taken up residence on the dry grass next to them. “So,” Jed coughed from his nest. “Anybody else notice that Dean didn’t show up for breakfast in the canteen today?”

Richard’s eyes were closed as he sat, but he wasn’t truly asleep. Well, he’d been trying; the broken sleep he’d gotten during the storm hadn’t been restful. But it just wasn’t going to happen. Not with Jed chattering on nearby. “Maybe he finally figured out how to make toast?”

Mark snorted. “Dean could burn water. He must’ve been running late and skipped breakfast.”

“I dunno, he looks like he ate breakfast. Otherwise he would’ve been snacking more.” Jed frowned, picking at his Nori costume.

“He could probably manage something if his life was in danger,” Richard argued. “Maybe. Soup is microwavable, isn’t it? He could do that.” He opened one eye to see the incredulous looks from his castmates. “All right, probably not. What’s your point? He probably grabbed a breakfast pastry on his way out the door..”

“The point is that young man lives off the canteen, fast food, and microwavable dinners. Where was he at breakfast?” Jed asked.

“You know, for someone that burned the sausages the last time he decided to grill…” Mark grinned. Jed laughed and tried to change the subject.

Richard sat straight up in his chair and stared across the field at Dean. The Kiwi was sitting in the grass, with Aidan laying in the field nearby, giggling over something stupid the two of them were talking about, no doubt. A behind-the-scenes camera was on them, capturing their stupidity. He pulled himself up and excused himself from Mark and Jed. Perhaps he should see what his nephews were up to.

“I reckon he needs to lose two stone!” Aidan laughed at the camera. Dean hid a smile, toying with a blade of grass.

A cough brought the terrible duo’s attention to Richard, and the videographer moved on. “Ah, Kili… Fili… BLOND one,” why couldn’t he ever get the names right? He’d have to come up with something, they were months in and he still couldn’t work out which was which. Richard sat down on the grass next to them.

“I’m Fili, he’s Kili.” Aidan pointed to himself and Dean in turn.

Dean sighed and punched Aidan lightly."It doesn’t help when you do that,” he laughed. “What’s up?” He looked back to Richard.

“We have a running bet going that you finally learned to make toast. You weren’t in the canteen this morning.”

Dean looked slightly embarrassed as Aidan raised an eyebrow. “It THAT why you never have any food in your pantry, Deano?” Aidan flopped down fully on the grass and stared at Richard upside-down. “I made breakfast for us.”

“You?” Richard gave them a sly smile.

“I can manage eggs and toast,” Aidan looked offended.

“So… now you two are having breakfast together?” The smile continued.

Dean’s eyes widened. “It was a bad storm last night, Aidan stayed at my place." Dean glanced down. "On the couch.” That was a lie, but Richard didn’t need to know the difference.

“And then Aidan made breakfast…” Richard raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his shoulders from shaking with laughter.

“Yeah, Dean was taking a shower. So I made food. I was starving. I went back to my place this morning, got the food and made it at his place. We had breakfast together. Big deal.” Aidan toyed with some of the long grass nearby. Dean groaned. Aidan really needed to learn to use his brain before talking.

“I think you two are taking the whole brotherly love thing a little far, aren’t you?” Richard smirked. Oh, that was an evil smirk. Almost as bad as when Martin when came up with a new way to torture them.

“Not really,” Aidan shrugged. “You should come over sometime.”

Dean buried his face in his hands. “Aid….”

“Hm, what? You don't want to invite Richard? It'll be more fun with three.”

“Aidan, shut up. Now. Please?”

Richard finally laughed out loud. “Maybe I will. But I don’t think I’ll be staying for breakfast.”

Dean shook his head and refused to look Richard in the eye. He was going to kill Aidan.

 

*******************

 

Richard took Aidan up on his offer that very night. In fact, they had a bit of a party going on. It turned out that Adam owned a Wii (he claimed it had been a gift, but he had an extensive array of games to go with it), and he happily brought it over to Dean’s trailer that evening. The three young Dwarves had invited Luke, James, and Orlando (though the Englishman had declined). Richard managed to drag Lee, Mark, and Martin with him. Pizza had been ordered to fill hungry stomachs. All in all, there wasn’t a place in the living area of Dean’s trailer that wasn’t occupied.

Richard stared blankly at the screen in front of him. “How do I hit somebody?” He looked down at the controller, as though it held the secrets of the game, then back up at the screen.

“I TOLD you, you should have let him play Link. Link is a button-masher.” Adam sighed, giving Dean a pointed stare.

Martin reached over poked at Richard’s controller. “You make your character run around and you press those. It should do something. At least, I think it should. It worked for me.”

“My character just went flying again…” Richard mourned.

“Dean, please stop killing Richard long enough for Richard to figure out the buttons,” James was trying not to laugh.

“That wasn’t me!” Dean protested, waving his controller at James.

“Mwahaha!” Lee grinned from his seat on the floor. “Call me dirty names in Dwarvish...”

“How do YOU know how to play Super Smash Brothers?” Martin asked Lee.

“My nephew loves this game.” Lee answered. “Actually, it’s probably one of the best party games I’ve seen, a bunch of people can play at once and it’s pretty easy. Well, except for King Under the Mountain over here. Or do I get to call you King Flying Off the Mountain?” Richard gave Lee a look and didn’t bother to answer. He'd get revenge...eventually.

“Does it get more fun with more alcohol?” Luke asked. “Because I’m really not seeing it.”

“Oh, yes. More alcohol always makes things much more fun.” Lee nodded. Luke took another swig of his beer.

“What’s that?” Richard frowned at the screen. “That’s weird.” He maneuvered his little character over to something that had popped up on the screen. “Oh, I picked it up. I think I picked it up.”

“Hey, now, using the hammer is cheating!” Aidan laughed. “No, no, hit LEE with it, not me! Hey! Aw, man!”

“That button makes it work!” Richard shouted happily.

Adam sighed. “I’ve created a monster…”

Mark shook his head and laughed before getting up to retrieve another beer from Dean's fridge – he wasn't playing the game, it was far ore entertaining to watch them, instead. On his way to the fridge, he paused. Something smelled wrong. “Dean, did you leave a burner on?”

Dean didn’t bother to look up from the game. “I don’t cook, Mark. It saves lives, I promise.”

“Then why do I smell… smoke?” Mark opened up the oven, then poked at each burner. All cold. He sniffed the air again. Where was the smell coming from?

Someone (not Richard) paused the game. “Y’know," Adam said quietly. "I smell it, too.” Controllers were put aside and the actors rose from their seats, looking around nervously. Dean rummaged through the kitchen, rechecking the stove and oven. No fire. The smell was getting stronger, it had to be coming from somewhere.

It was when Dean opened up his towel closet that the source became clear. Flames came rushing out, barely missing the blond (who was very grateful for his own fast reflexes) and hitting the wall across from the closet, setting that alight. Everything happened all at once. Luke, even in his slightly inebriated state, pulled Martin up and shoved him out the door, following quickly behind. Adam managed to grab up his game console, ripping the wires out of it, before Mark grabbed him and rushed outside. As Richard forced Lee and Aidan out, Dean flew to the cabinet under his sink, praying that the fire extinguisher there actually worked. He pulled the pin and pointed it at the fire, pulling the trigger. Richard snatched it away from Dean, turning the nozzle towards what looked like the base of the fire and made sweeping motions with the extinguisher. “Dean, get out of here!” Richard ordered.

Dean shook his head. “My place, my problem!”

“You really have a death wish?” Richard argued. “Jimmy, get him out of here!

James obliged, grabbing Dean around the shoulders and dragging him outside. Dean shouted every swear word he knew, including the Khuzdul ones Richard had been teaching them. James didn’t even blink. He tossed Dean to the ground next to where Richard had pushed Aidan and Lee. “You stay there!”

In the few moments since being jerked outside, Martin had run to his own trailer and had returned with his own fire extinguisher. Someone had called the facilities team, and numerous people were running from all directions, several with extinguishers of their own. With all the chaos and noise, the rest of the cast emerged from their trailers, staring in shock at the smoke coming from Dean’s trailer. Graham wasted no time and ran over to the group. “What happened?”

“Fire,” Dean managed. “Richard, he’s in there.” Graham nodded. He snatched up the extinguisher Martin had retrieved and stormed inside. “Graham, what are you doing?” Dean shouted.

"Leave him,” Martin pushed Dean back down to the ground. “He’s one of the few of us that can handle the smoke and fire. He’ll be fine.”

Moments later, Graham reappeared with Richard at his side, helping the other man out the door and onto the ground. Richard sunk down onto his knees and heaved, eyes shut. Graham vanished again. Not long after that, the black smoke billowing from the trailer turned white. Graham reappeared in the doorway, came down the steps, and sat on the ground near to Dean. “It’s out. It's out.”

Most of the gathering crowd applauded. Even Luke and Lee were greatly impressed by Graham, promising him drinks at their favorite local watering holes. Jeb, who had appeared in the chaos with arms full of bottled water, was busy kneeling next to Mark and Adam, encouraging them to drink. James and Martin quickly let Ian know what had happened.

Dean and Aidan both stayed on the ground. Dean didn’t want to know the extent of the damage. Sure, he wasn’t paying for the place, but it was still his home during shooting. His home, not just a place to sleep. His cameras were in there. His prints. His sketches and paintings. And what would have happened if they hadn’t thrown the impromptu get-together? Would he have smelled the smoke in time? For once, Aidan didn’t have any words, he simply wrapped an arm around his friend. Dean reached up and touched Aidan’s hand, then leaned on Aidan’s shoulder.

“Come on, gents.” Richard's voice was raspy and he didn't look so well as he leaned down and offered a hand to Dean. “Let’s let get out of the way of the facilities people, eh?” He pulled Dean, then Aidan up, pushing them towards the crowd and away from the official looking people. A fire crew pulled up, and began barking orders to clear everyone from the scene so they could pull the truck in. One of the fire crew found out that Richard and Graham had been in there with the smoke and forced oxygen masks on them. They also checked on Dean, making certain hadn't been burned. The Kiwi had been lucky.

Peter and Fran had been called. Ian, James, and Martin all talked quietly to the director and the writer. Peter finally nodded, then stood on one of the picnic tables. “Everyone! Because we don’t know what caused the fire, we’re going to be taking everyone out of the trailers in this area for tonight! Grab whatever you want out of the trailers, but you’re not staying here! We’ll use the gymnasium for the night, until everything’s checked out!” Murmurs of assent and dissent alike were heard, but all the actors grudging went to their trailers and returned with blankets, pillows, and other necessities. Lee offered up his camping gear, which several of the actors took him up on. Aidan vanished into his trailer and returned with the backpack Dean had given him and double the blankets anyone else had, along with every pillow he owned.

“Here,” Aidan shoved some of the blankets at Dean. “You can use my spares.” Dean gave Aidan a small smile and took the extras.

In the gymnasium, the mats were pulled out and strewn about, soft places for the actors to sleep instead of the hard floor. As with any disaster, everyone wanted to talk, all except Dean. Luke told the story of the fire to anyone who would hear it, and mercilessly teased Orlando about missing the opportunity. Evangeline set up her own little place in one corner, tidy and away from the chaos of all the men.

Graham and Richard eventually turned up, after being checked out by both EMS and Liz. Martin took the opportunity to check on them as well, discretely. Someone had brought alcohol, and a number of the Dwarves were making a bit of a party of it – at least until Ken told them all off in no uncertain words and reminded them that everyone needed sleep. Steven sullenly put the alcohol into a bag and told everyone that Ken was right.

Aidan set up his pillows and blankets on the mats next to a wall and harassed Dean until the older man finally took up residence in the spot Aidan had so carefully laid out. Double-thick mats were laid out for Ian, who set up his blankets next to Aidan. Richard copied him, settling himself on the other side of Dean. Lee set up his little nest next to Richard, though he did glance back at Evangeline. Ian raised an eyebrow to that, but said nothing.

“Tell us a story.” Aidan asked of Ian. Richard and Lee looked confused, but before they could say anything, Aidan continued. “You’ll do it anyway, so just do it tonight.” Aidan gave Ian a pleading look and then a pointed look towards Dean. Dean needed a distraction.

Ian nodded, hiding a smile. Trust Aidan to find a way around having to find time to stop by and listen to another Greek lesson and keep his friend's mind off the disaster at the same time. Ian waited for all of them: Dean, Aidan, Richard, and Lee; to settle down in their bedding before he started the tale.

The old God began to recite the story of Paris and the Golden Apple, explaining that the Golden Apples had been guarded at one point in time by both Atlas, Atlas's daughters, and a dragon because they could give immortality. Dean fell asleep almost immediately. Stress and exhaustion had beaten him, and he gave in willingly. Next to him, wrapped up in his blanket, sleep crept up on Aidan as well, slowly taking up residence until Aidan slumped into the pillow and closed his eyes. Ian stopped the tale and grinned at the two of them. “They never cease to amaze me.” He said to Richard.

Richard nodded from his own sleeping bag - courtesy of Lee - on the other side of Dean. He hadn’t wanted to leave the two of them unguarded. It just seemed very wrong, which was stupid, in Richard’s opinion. Aidan and Dean were fully grown men. But tonight, they’d seemed a lot smaller, like the nephews they were supposed to be playing. His instincts told him they needed protection, and his instincts were usually right. “Tonight’s not been a good night. Dean’s had some bad luck lately.”

Ian didn’t comment on that. He had a bad feeling about the so-called bad luck. That would be why he was sticking to them like glue – after all, the Head of the Thrones of Olympus would certainly scare off any future assassination attempts for the night. As Ian, Richard, and a very bemused Lee watched, Dean shifted in his sleep, losing some of his blanket in the process. Richard leaned over and fixed the blanket, accidentally tossing some of it over onto Aidan. Dean didn’t budge. Aidan smiled in his sleep and cuddled closer to Dean. He looked like a child, bundled up in a hideously coloured plaid blanket, one hand wrapped around the edge of Dean’s blanket, one hand pillowing his own cheek.

“How cute,” Lee grinned. He pulled out his mobile and snapped a picture. “Blackmail,” he explained to Ian. “I’ve been trying to get this shot since we went camping.”

“You had better share that with me. I could use some leverage over them.” Ian nodded. Lee grinned and sent the picture to Ian’s mobile.

“Cute Kili,” Ian grinned. “He’ll never live this down.”

“That’s it! Kili is cute and Fili is… damn. I’ll come up with something for him.” Richard nodded to himself. “Kili cute, Kili cute, Kili cute…” He muttered, trying to make himself remember it. Maybe he’d stop calling them by the wrong names.

Lee wormed down into his sleeping bag. "Cute, huh?" He scowled at Richard until the Englishman leaned over and gave the American a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Kili's cute, but the Elvenking... is enchanting." Richard whispered to Lee, laying his hand on the American's. Lee grasped Richard's hand and held on tight. The Elf gave the Dwarf a grateful grin before letting sleep take him, still holding Richard's hand and secure in the knowledge that the Englishman was safe.

Sleep had come easy to Lee, but Richard’s protective instincts kept him from resting. What Richard didn't know was that Ian was having the same dilemma. Both the Dwarven King and the old God would be getting very little sleep that night, but at least the boys would be safe.

And Ian would teach whoever had done this what happens when you mess with Zeus.

 

******************

 

The next morning brought more chaos. Most of the actors were sore from sleeping in the gymnasium, even though they had used the mats. There was talk of a mutiny. Peter and Fran got the best caterers they could find to come in for breakfast, trying to appease the actors. An extra day off, given the circumstances, was called for. Although the trailers were still off-limits until the arson investigation was completed, most of actors sneaked back to retrieve things they needed.

Dean refused to go anywhere near his trailer.

Aidan had produced a set of spare, clean (how Aidan had managed to find a whole set of clean clothes was beyond Dean) clothes for Dean from the backpack: A pair of jeans that were a little too long on him, a plain T-shirt that hung slightly on him, and an obnoxious long-sleeve shirt in red plaid to keep the chill out. As Dean finished putting the clothes on, right down to the socks, he couldn't help but feel weird, wearing Aidan's clothes. The only thing Aidan hadn't thought of was underwear, which Dean was a little grateful for. It meant a bit of chafing, but Dean could deal.

He was just folding up the bedding as Ian came by and told the lads that they were needed in one of the conference rooms. Immediately. Not wanting to make the God wait, Aidan and Dean followed.

As they arrived, Dean pulled up one of the rolling chairs. “What’s going on?" Aidan took a seat next to him and Ian took an empty seat on the other side of the table. “Is this an intervention?”

Ian didn’t grin at the bad joke. “Do you need one?” Around Ian at the table sat Martin, James, Graham, Mark, Peter, Fran, Liz, Simon Pegg, and Patrick Stewart. None of them looked happy in the slightest.

“No, it was just… It’s been a rough couple of days.” Dean sighed.

Patrick nudged Ian. “Are you sure he’s right for this?”

“It really has been a rough couple of days. He’s mortal, let’s cut him some slack.” Ian motioned to Dean.

Ah. That explained it. Dean hadn’t thought that there were other Gods outside this project. But there had to be, the Greeks had hundreds of Gods, didn’t they? There was a God for just about everything, if the books he’d bought on the topic were correct.

“Dean, Aidan, we need to talk to you. Both. Seriously.” Peter squirmed a bit in his seat. “We all agreed that since you were doing this willingly, we’d let you know of any developments.”

“You found her?” Aidan perked up a bit. A bit of good news would definitely help.

“No. The lead we had didn’t pan out. The girl that American professor talked about changed her name, apparently. We have information on her graduation, but nothing after that. And since there is no Greek God of internet or hacking, we’re woefully out of our league. Well, if any of us suddenly came up with the ability to hack, it would probably be Athena herself. Or Tekos. If that professor’s assistant is Athena, she’s staying a step ahead and well-hidden.” Fran sighed.

“Why would she do that?” Dean asked. “If you’re her family…..”

Oddly enough, it was Patrick who spoke up, rising and pacing the room. “Because there are others who would like to harm her. Hera would love to get a little bit of revenge. Aphrodite and Athena haven’t spoken for centuries, and I fear their hatred of each other will only have grown. There are a few others who Athena has rubbed the wrong way. Even if she is suppressing her memories and abilities, the desire to hide from her enemies is still there. Athena is extremely clever. Always three steps ahead. Apparently, the name change was done at least six or seven years ago.”

“Uhm, sorry, who…?” Dean pointed a finger to Patrick.

“Poseidon,” Patrick came around the table and shook Dean’s extended finger. “Usually, I turn up with Hyperion, but Christopher isn’t feeling too well lately.”

“I’m Dionysus,” Simon piped up, reaching over the table to shake Dean and Aidan's hands. “In case you wanted to know.”

“But we’re not here to talk about Athena right now,” Ian said. “Hermes, if you’ll continue…” He motioned to Peter.

“Yes, as I said, there has been a development.” Peter frowned. “And not a pleasant one.”

“We had your trailer checked for the cause of the fire, Dean. There wasn’t one.” Fran said.

“What? But there was, there was a fire. I was there. Jimmy, Martin, YOU were there.” Dean argued.

“The arson inspector says the fire came from the towels in the closet. There wasn’t any electrical wiring anywhere in that area. No accelerant, no source. It just…. Started.” Peter finished.

“That’s not good, is it?” Aidan asked.

“No, it isn’t.” Ian said, looking at them gravelly.

“Then how did my trailer get set on fire? Spontaneous combustion?” Dean frowned, slamming a hand on the table.

“The same way Simon knows every addiction humanity’s come up with. The same way Martin can heal people and Jimmy can get us all coffee without leaving this table. How Ian can probably power Wellington all by himself if he chose to, how Graham can take clay and turn it into a living marvel, how Mark can inspire people like you wouldn’t believe, and how Peter is incapable of telling a bad story. The same way Patrick here can create a tidal wave to wipe a city out or calm the seas to let ships pass.” Fran answered, looking sad.

“Yes, she does talk in riddles when she’s using her powers,” Peter nodded. “This is actually pretty understandable compared to the last time.”

“A God?” Dean’s stomach sank. “I thought all of you…”

“None of us did it, lad. Graham’s the only one capable that’s here, and he wouldn’t do such a thing, he likes you little mortals way too much. He only harms or kills to save a life.” James said. “I should know, I taught him that.” He looked proud.

“There is a Greek God of Fire. Or rather, the Forge, but he can use fire. One who would most certainly side with Aphrodite. He has always adored her, after all, he married her eons ago.” Ian elaborated.

“He also tried to rape Athena. Several times, during several different lives. It’s another reason why Aphrodite doesn’t like Athena, despite the fact that she always slept around herself.” Patrick added. Ian gave him a glare.

“I don’t know that story,” Aidan said.

“I haven’t told it to you. Hephaestus. God of fire and the forge.” Ian explained. “He doesn’t care for us and he doesn’t mind harming mortals. He would love to have control over Athena, or to have her locked away.”

Martin nodded. “We have reason to believe that he’s on the set. Somewhere. I haven’t been able to see him in any visions-“

“And I can’t find him with my seeker spells,” Fran added.

“But there’s too many coincidences. We think he’s made you, Dean, a target. He knows that we bait Athena with heroes – even if you are a little short, and your nose is strange, and you’re weird.” Mark teased, he couldn’t help himself.

"I thought you said I was handsome," Dean countered, finally smiling for the first time since the night before.

Mark shrugged. "In the right light, maybe. Hephaestus must think so, he apparently thinks you’re the best chance to perk her interest. No offense, Aidan.” The young Irishman gave Mark a non-committal shrug.

Ian continued “We’ve had two incidents, with you seemingly as the target.”

“Two?” Dean’s eyebrows knitted together.

“The set overheating was the first. That wasn’t a mechanical issue. You were the only one to faint, even though your costume is lighter than Stephen’s and several others.” Ian elaborated.

“So, what? Just get Hepha-bloke out of here.” Aidan suggested.

Simon laughed. “If only it was that easy!”

“Why’s that?”

“We don’t know who he IS. He could be anybody.” Graham explained. “Not all of us Greeks stick together. The groups we run in are split between two fairly loose factions, and even then not everyone’s in those groups. We have a number of Gods still missing; we lost them hundreds of years ago and haven’t been able to re-locate them. My brother Atlas, for instance, has been missing since 205 A.C.E.. There are others who do their own thing, too, not taking a side between the factions. We’re fractured.”

“Hephaestus isn’t part of our faction,” Martin finished. “We want no part of him. He’s always been trouble.”

“Violent temper, destructive behavior, attempted rapist, doesn’t mind a little bit of murder. No. He will never join us.” Ian shook his head and clenched his fists. Simon wisely kept it to himself that Zeus been known to engage in destructive behavior from time to time.

“You’re saying that this God is trying to murder us?” Dean paled.

“Probably not,” Fran patted Dean’s hand. “He’s probably just trying to scare you away. Out and out murder would be hard with so many people around.”

That didn’t make Dean feel any better.

“You two can still back out of being bait at any time, you know that, right?” Ian asked.

Dean and Aidan looked at each other. Aidan took a deep breath, then shook his head. Dean nodded. “I think we agree that we don’t want to back out, right Aid?”

“Yeah. We’re in this together. We can do this.” Aidan added. Ian gave them both a small smile. They were nervous as a cat on a life raft, but they were still going forward. Brave young men.

“I’ve got ears on Aphrodite. Hephaestus won’t go too long without contacting her. I’m going to stay on set for a few weeks, see if I can flush out someone who’s contacting Aphrodite or one of her assistants.“ Simon explained. “I look pretty common, give me a ball cap and let me work my American accent and nobody’ll be able to tell. You're all just lucky that I was in Australia when you called."

“Yeah, but Mr. Stewart here is too well-known to be spying,” Aidan argued.

Patrick laughed. “I’m here on a vacation. Got here three days ago. Tropical drinks and beaches and bikini’s, it's warmer than it is in England right now. I’m only at the meeting for counsel. That and I’ll call Chris later and let him know the plan. He worries, but he’s getting too far into this life to do much about it.”

“That’s your plan? You’re going to let him,” Dean pointed at Simon, “run around on set and hope you catch a God of Fire? How’re going to manage that? Strike that, how’re you going to manage that without me or Aidan getting killed? I mean, we don’t mind a bit of danger, but taking precaution is always a good thing.”

Everyone was silent. The plan wasn’t a great one, but it was all they had. They were running blind, here. This was why they needed Athena – she would’ve vetted the prospective candidates for jobs to the point where Hephaestus couldn’t have set foot within a mile of the soundstages. She would have been ten steps ahead of Aphrodite and her husband. What to do….

Fran stood. “Do you like those shirts?”

Aidan blinked down at his t-shirt. He’d given his flannel plaid shirt to Dean, the Kiwi had more trouble dealing with the cooler weather than the Irishman. “It’s a shirt. It might be clean…”

“This is Aidan’s shirt,” Dean motioned to what he was wearing. He didn’t add ‘and pants’. That would have been awkward.

“You’ll just have to deal. I can’t enchant living tissue.” Fran stated. He pulled at the two of them until they were standing, laying a hand each on the clothes.

Aidan and Dean had seen the Gods work their magic before. Now that they were aware of it, they could feel a funny pressure whenever Peter was working on something, like being inside an aeroplane. Ian’s abilities always manifested themselves in grand scale, while Mark’s would be impossible to tell if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes would go to a kaleidoscope of colors whenever he was using his abilities. Graham always felt soothing when he used his, and James manifested items out of thin air, which was really cool. Even Martin had a tell – Aidan had been a jerk once and had pried Martin’s eyes open while he was sleeping, only to find that Martin’s eyes had gone completely white, like Geordi LaForge on Star Trek.

Fran’s was cooler than all of theirs.

With a few small motions of her hands, still holding onto their shirts, pinkish streams of light started to flow from her palms. Fran chanted words in some ancient, forgotten language, picking up speed. Pink light shone from her, making her glow even in the artificial light of the conference room. When she opened her eyes, there was nothing but pink light coming from where her irises should have been. The streams wove up and down the shirts, making their clothes glow as well. Then, as swiftly as it started, it all vanished, leaving Aidan and Dean to wonder if they’d been hallucinating.

“There you go. Protection spell. I’ve got an inertia dampener on it, fire-resistance, slight waterproofing, electrical grounding, material shielding, the works. Let’s see Hephaestus try to kill you now.” Fran grinned smugly. “Well, while you’re wearing those shirts. I’ll do another spell on your costumes later.”

“You sure that’ll work?” Dean frowned, looking down and plucking at the flannel. Great. His best protection didn’t even belong to him, and it was plaid.

“I’ve yet to see something get through one of my spells,” Fran brushed some invisible lint off of Dean’s shoulder. “And I’ve been around for a while. At least it’s something while we flush out our traitor.”

Dean and Aidan thanked Fran profusely. Despite the chaos of the past few days, even Dean was looking more cheerful. After a few words of caution from all the Gods, Aidan and Dean left the office.

They didn’t get five feet from the door before they noticed the figure that had been leaning right outside the conference room door. Taller than Aidan, more stern than Ken, and looking very tired, stood someone they didn’t expect. The person had a camera bag in hand, along with a box at his feet.

“I salvaged these from your trailer this morning, Dean.” Richard said quietly. “You didn’t hear me when I tried to catch you up, so I chased you down to here.” He gave them a curious look. “Did you know that room isn’t soundproof?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Richard knows... but how much of a problem is that REALLY going to be?
> 
>  
> 
> If you like the story, please let me know. Remember, no money is made off this project, so a pat on the head is always welcome. I also want to encourage constructive criticism, W.D. is great, but I'd like to hear what I can improve upon that she may have missed.


	10. Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard makes his move - Check and mate for Ian.
> 
> Or rather, did Ian just let Richard win a battle in order to win a war?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, my apologies. This was a natural stopping point.

Aidan and Dean left the conference room, not only in slightly better spirits, but also a lot safer. Ian had breathed a sigh of relief when Fran had taken the initiative to protect the two. Now that their little mortal heroes were on their way, they could get back to business. “Easy things first – agenda one: James, you had a proposal.”

James gave the group a grin. “Well, I was thinking. You need two actresses for Sigrun and Tilda. I hereby nominate…” he banged his hands on the table in a form of a drumroll. “Peggy and Mary.”

“You want your daughters on set? Is that such a good idea?”Martin teased.

“Oh, come on. They’ve been absolutely begging. They haven’t gotten to see any of you in years. I could fly them down for a few shots, let them spend some time with the lot of you and the rest of the kids, and then send them home happy. Think about it, you could bring Honor down for a little bit, Graham, let them spend some time together. And Peter, Katie and Billy are growing up fast, you know. Martin, yours are getting big enough to come visit the rest of the children of the Gods, aren’t they? Best to get them all together often so they don’t forget. I mean, we don’t want to look up progeny in our next lives and find out they’ve all forgotten about each other, now do we? It’s not like our children grow up to be immortal, anymore. One life is all they get.” James argued.

“You and your wife are fighting again, aren’t you?” Martin sighed.

“Not fighting, just not getting along,” James admitted quietly. “Kids make me feel better. See, this one right here always makes me feel better.” He perked up and grabbed onto Graham’s neck and tugged at the Scotsman.

“I AM older than you this go-around,” Graham laughed.

“Yeah, well, you’re still my kid, Grahm-Grahm. Shut up.” This brought a round of laughter from everyone at the table.

Peter leaned back, grinning. “I see no reason why we can’t have a get-together for them. I second the motion of Peggy and Mary in the movie – and since it’s my movie, we don’t need a vote.”

Fran shuffled through her papers. “Speaking of children… Agenda two; I found this interesting letter from a fan today, with the rest of the fan mail. Someone is very interested in what we’re doing here. Here it is.”

The letter was written in marker. Black marker, but still marker. It had lots of little doodles on the pages, a bat here, a spider there, a three-headed dog in the margin, and a frightening owl along the top. The letter was very simple, exuding the greatness of Wizards and Hobbits alike, and judging by the wordcraft and handwriting, couldn’t have been written by anybody over the age of eight. It continued, extolling the virtues of The Hobbit being made into a movie, and a demand that the dragon be ‘awesome, because all Dragons are awesome’. Another section read ‘Why can’t I be in the movie? I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll save my allowance for the ticket to come there!’ All in all, a typical fan letter from a child. But at the end, still in marker with the same handwriting, the last paragraph simply said ‘Tell Zeus he still owes me fish and chips. It’s not MY fault I had a heart attack before he bought me lunch. And is Persephone there? Is she pretty? Can I talk to her? Love – MAYBE – Hades. Isaac. Hades.’

Ian and Patrick snatched up the paper faster than Ian could fry an air-conditioner. They read it over to themselves, pointing out little things in the letter to each other and commenting on all the little drawings. Their dear brother had finally made contact! They grabbed the envelope away from Fran, finding out to their dismay that Hades wasn’t from the UK in this life – he was Australian in this go around. At least it was an English-speaking nation. The exhilaration of knowing that Hades was safe and sound – albeit prone to drawing on things and thinking his allowance could buy a plane ticket– made the two older men laugh like the child their brother now was. Fran just knew she’d made their day. They stayed lost in their own little world as they examined the letter.

Next on the agenda was what Simon could do on set that wouldn’t be too obvious. Something that didn't take too much time away from spying.

"Pastry Chef," Simon decided.

"If I didn't know you were sober, I'd ask if you had gotten into my vodka stash." Peter sighed. "Driver. We've got several. You can't be any worse than Luke, he backed one of the cars into a mailbox."

Mark rolled his eyes. "You trust Dionysus with a car? Nope. I think a Hairdresser would work." His eyes twinkled.

"He'd make a better Clown, if you ask me." Graham interjected.

Martin shrugged. "That he would. I've got a better idea. Personal Assistant. Mine, of course. He is my brother, after all."

"That might work..." Fran nodded. "Simon? You have a problem with it?"

"What, you mean have the chance to drive Martin up the wall and he can't do anything about it? Sounds perfect. I'll have to pick up a ball cap, though. Make my disguise better." Simon rubbed his hair. "One caveat, though. I want to be an Orc in one scene."

"Done," Peter agreed.

"So, fourth order of business, the girl the professor talked about..." Fran looked down at her papers and back up at everyone else. The joyful atmosphere evaporated as quickly as it had come.

“Anything on that girl’s name change?” Graham asked. “If she even is Athena.”

Fran shook her head. “Her name when she was at Uni was Rosalie Vires. Shortly after graduation, Rosalie Vires ceased to exist. Americans are very proprietary about their documents, we can’t seem to get an ‘in’ to find out what her name was changed to. The documents are sealed.”

“And with Martin’s vision ages ago that she moved… she could be anywhere.” Peter sighed.

“Or anyone,” Ian agreed, having finished relishing in the glee of Hades’ letter. “Well, anyone female.”

Mark shrugged. “I dunno, with the medical technology these days…”

“We’re not going there,” Ian insisted.

Patrick tucked the letter from Hades into his jacket pocket. “This certainly sounds like her. Ten steps ahead of us. It’s like she’s hiding.”

“Why would she do that? I can understand her anxiety over thinking she’s crazy, and staying away from Aphrodite and her crew, but she’s never fully out and out hidden from us to this extent before.” Ian said. Patrick just shrugged and gave his brother a pitied look.

“There is a little more,” Fran spoke up. All eyes turned to her. “Rosalie Vires vanished into thin air, but I did some checking. Two more students, both male, from the same university vanished at exactly the same time. Same graduation date.The boys were twins, Jacob and Jason Tallokas. According to the professor, the three of them spent a great deal of time together.”

James frowned. “You don’t think the three could have been killed, do you?”

“Martin’s vision of Athena, years ago, was after the three of them vanished. Maybe the boys were killed? She’s running because she’s in danger?” Peter asked, sounding hopeful.

“How old was Rosalie when she graduated from university?” Ian didn’t sound nearly as hopeful as his son.

Fran winced. “Twenty-two. Average age. Apparently, she refused to skip any schooling and stayed with her age group.” A round of silence fell over the conference room. Twenty-two. If Athena had been fifteen, or even slightly younger, when she hit puberty, twenty-two would have been seven years or just over it.The exact right time for her to snap. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Nobody wanted to talk about the fate of the two missing young men from the American university.

 

******************************

 

Meanwhile, outside the apparently not soundproof conference room, Aidan, Dean, and Richard were having a little meeting of their own.

“Ah, Richard, thank you. For my stuff. I mean, you didn’t have to go through the trailer…” Dean made a move to grab at the camera bag, but Richard stepped away, taking the bag with him. Dean’s eyes widened and his shoulders slumped. “You chased me down to give it to me.”

“Yes, I did. And I followed you here. And apparently, the two of you have very strange conversations with several castmates, our writer, and our director.” Richard frowned.

“What… did you hear?” Dean asked quietly. He almost jumped when he heard a banging noise from inside the conference room, followed by a pair of muffled girls’ names in James’s voice. He winced. If he could hear James talking, there wasn’t much Richard could’ve missed.

“Apparently, there’s no Greek God of Hacking, but there is one of Fire. Aphrodite is being spied on, and Patrick Stewart likes bikinis.” Richard managed not to smirk at that. “And you're apparently in some sort of danger?" He sounded concerned. Angry, but concerned.

Aidan’s blood ran cold. Dean was in on it, and now Richard knew about it? No, no, no. Peter and Fran would kill him. It was getting too far out of hand. He shook his head slightly and slipped into jester-mode. “Awesome plot, isn’t it? I’m working on it! We’ll, Fran’s editing. And by editing, I mean tearing it into tiny pieces. Peter said we could borrow some of the cameras on an off-day and shoot it! Dean, being stalked by Greek Gods because he’s a twat!”

Dean resisted the urge to bang his head on the wall.

“Is that why you wanted Ian to tell you stories from the Iliad?” Richard didn't budge.

Aidan grinned. “Sure is! Ian’s got that stuff down! He reads more than I do. I can’t stand to read for too long.” Well, he could, but only if it was very interesting.

“I see,” Richard nodded. “So you’re either a terrible screenwriter or a terrible liar. I think I know which one it is.”

"I’m hoping you’re going to say ‘screenwriter’.” Aidan said quietly to himself.

“Anextiomarus.” Richard said.

Aidan leaned over and stage-whispered. “Oh my God. Dean, we broke Richard.”

Richard sighed and held up Dean’s camera bag. “Dean, your cameras. You grab the box, Aidan. There’s two more boxes at my trailer. A lot of clothes, along with several sketchbooks, and I think your laptop survived, too. Your bedroom didn’t get burned, but the living room and kitchen were a total loss. You lost your tele, it didn’t burn, but the heat fried it. I haven’t checked the X-game thing, I couldn’t figure out how to turn it in. Your camera lenses didn’t make it. Why did you store lenses in with your towels?”

Dean took the bag from Richard, not looking the older man in the eye. “Thanks.” His heart broke that he’d forgotten to take the lenses back out after dancing with Aidan. “You went through it all by yourself?”

Richard led them back outside. “We all went through it, right after the arson inspector left.”

Dean smiled for the second time that day. It seemed so long ago that he’d been alone, his first days on the set, thinking they’d never accept him, that he wasn’t good enough. And here they were, going through the ruins of his trailer and salvaging his things while he wandered around aimlessly in Aidan’s clothes all morning. His eyes watered up a bit, and he wrapped his arms around Richard. “Thank you, mate.”

“Yes, well…” Richard shuffled a bit and then gave in, raising his hand and giving Dean a pat on the back. “You’re one of us. I gotta take care of you two, who knows what you'd do without someone keeping an eye. Now, you're welcome. Let go.”

Dean grinned and sniffled a bit, but didn’t let go. “Or else what?” Dean didn’t want to back away from Richard, or both the Englishman and the Irishman would know he was crying. For all his acting experience, he couldn’t cry without his eyes going all red.

“Or I will tell Martin something very embarrassing about you and then give him coffee. You know how that turns out.” Richard gave Dean a tired smile. He shoved lightly at Kiwi, taking him by the shoulders and making him stand up straight. “Come on, off.”

Dean gave a half-laugh and backed off Richard, wiping his eyes. “Sorry. I just…”

“Your trailer set itself on fire, it’s understandable.” Richard motioned towards the trailers. “Let’s go get the rest of your things, shall we?” The older man turned Dean around and, putting an arm around Dean's shoulder, headed down the pavement. Aidan caught up with the two and tugged at Richard's other arm until the King put it around the younger Prince's shoulders. Together, they went to face the salvage.

Richard guided them towards his own trailer, where the rest of the things they’d found still intact sat outside on the picnic bench. Adam and Stephen were there, guarding the pile of clothes and meager boxes as though it was Erebor’s gold.

Richard watched as Dean picked through the meager possessions. He welled up with tears again when he realized his photos, sketches, laptop, and memory cards, all of which had been stored in the bedroom on the far wall, had survived. He’d lost a few rolls of undeveloped film - everything he'd taken on the camping trip - and nearly all his negatives to the heat, but he still was exhilarated. Aidan helped pick through the pile of clothes, finding embarrassing things and holding them up: mostly underwear but also a few old shirts Dean used when hiking. Thankfully, the clothes were all clean – unlike Aidan, Dean actually did his laundry regularly. The two of them were a sight.

Richard felt his eyes narrow. Could the boys really be in danger? No, that wouldn’t do at all. Richard had decided upon arrival that the studios were his territory, and he would protect it and everyone in it, just like he’d always done. Nobody was going to hurt his nephews, he’d decided that last night. Anybody that tried to harm the boys would feel his wrath.

 

**************

 

As the sun sank under the green hills of New Zealand, Dean found he had a new dilemma. He’d stopped by his trailer, only for a moment, and discovered that between the ash, the chemicals from the fire extinguishers, and the giant gaping holes in the walls, there was no way he could stay there. He relocated all of his surviving belongings to Aidan’s trailer, who gleefully found places to put everything. The Irishman was apparently a real-world Tetris master, and it showed. It was by no means organized, but at least it was stored.

Richard hadn’t let the two of them out of his sight, except for when they were in the conference room. It was a bit unnerving, although Richard played their uncle and talked with them on set (and gave Martin ideas on how to torture them next), he didn’t spend a great deal of social time with them. Yes, he did some weapons training with the two of them, ate lunch with them in the canteen, and often looked in on them in their trailers to talk about the scripts or teach them more dirty words in Dwarvish, but he’d never spent hours on end with them. In fact, the party they were having when the fire started was really the first time he’d been at their trailers for any extended period.

Now... he wouldn’t go away.

No amount of wildly inappropriate comments Aidan or Dean could come up with made the Englishman budge, and no amount of thievery of personal belongings seemed to annoy him. Those were usually the two things Richard would chase them through the set for, laughing and pretending to be angry about it while swearing that if he ever caught them, they’d regret it.

Richard had brought a bag of ‘supplies’, which mostly consisted of books and snacks, and had taken up residence at the little dining table in Aidan’s trailer while Aidan and Dean were on the couch, watching a movie Aidan had produced from his collection. Dean was the first to nod off this time, stress wearing him down until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Aidan had let Dean’s head rest on his shoulder, and was starting to curl up next to the Kiwi on the couch. When Aidan finally moved to lay an arm across his friend, Richard looked up from his phone call with Lee, shaking his head before pretending he didn't notice.

By the time Ian stopped by Aidan’s trailer, the sun had long been gone. Richard was still there, stubbornly reading a book and refusing to move. “Aidan, Dean, I need to talk to- Hello, Richard. I wasn’t expecting you.” Ian opened the door without bothering to knock - after all, the boys did it to him on a regular basis.

“I’m sure you weren’t,” Richard mumbled.

“Deano’s sleeping.” Aidan made a ‘shhhh’ motion to Ian.

“That’s what I came to talk to you about. Patrick and I were talking, and neither of us thinks it’s a good idea for you to stay alone tonight.” Ian gestured to the two of them.

“We’re together. We’re fine.” Aidan shrugged

“And how many people were at Dean’s last night when his closet caught fire?” Ian gave the Irishman his best glare. It was a very effective tool. “No. You’ll spend the night at my trailer.”

“There’s nowhere to sleep there,” Richard interjected. “And who says your trailer is safe?”

Aidan cringed. Zeus’s trailer would probably be one of the safest places on the planet. “Ah, Rich, it’s pretty safe. But he’s right, there’s nowhere to sleep! We both can’t fit on your couch!”

“There’s enough space in the floor for the both of you.” Ian waved his hands at Aidan. "Come along." He was not going to leave any room for argument.

Aidan rolled his eyes and shook Dean. The blonde blinked a few times, refusing to fully awaken, before Aidan finally leaned over and gave Dean a kiss on the cheek. Dean promptly fell on the floor, now fully awake.

“What the hell?!” Dean held his cheek in his hand. Aidan really had no idea what he did to the Kiwi.

“We’re kipping at Ian’s. Help me get the stuff.” Aidan gave his best friend a mischievous grin and herded Dean towards the bedroom.

As the young ones went to get bedding and clothes, Ian turned to Richard. “Thank you for keeping an eye on them. They’ve had a stressful couple of days.”

“Arson attempts tend to do that.” Richard nodded, putting his book and phone away. “By the way, if they have the floor, I’m taking your couch.”

“Arson? It was just an accident.” Ian did his best to look startled.

“That’s not what was said in the conference room,” Richard glared at Ian.

Ian’s heart sank. “Richard, it’s not what you think it is. We were just… talking about a story. That’s all.”

Richard met Ian’s eyes.“Anextiomarus.”

Ian blinked. That word was familiar, why was it familiar? Something about the south of England, what was it? His mind was getting old, taking too long to come up with information. It just wasn’t fair. Just as Richard started to look annoyed and began to collect the rest of his things, Ian realized what the word was. “Genius Locus.”

“I find that to be fairly offensive, actually. I’m not bound to a particular site anymore. Well, except for when I’m born.” Richard crossed his arms.

“All of the Genius Loci Gods have faded, people move too much, the tribal power is long gone.” Ian shook his head. “That’s not possible.”

“Again, offensive. Just because I can’t do anything magical anymore doesn’t mean I’m not still here.” Richard scowled. “Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be reborn in the same city, repeatedly? You’d think they would have gotten rid of that old mill by now. There’s been a mill on the exact same spot for seven hundred years. It gets a little dull, seeing the same things over and over. I took up acting so I could move.”

A Genius Locus. A God of the Land, a tribal protector. Their power should have faded ages ago, but here Richard was, claiming an obscure name that Ian was sure he’d only come across once in all his centuries. All the European Genius Loci should have all been gone – they were connected to their land and people, and if they lost that connection – as they should have done in the rapidly changing eras following Rome’s invasion – they would fade. Zeus hadn’t seen one from Europe in four hundred years. “That just isn’t possible. How? Are there any others?"

“I didn’t even know YOU lot were around, mister Greek-person. I didn’t realize there were other Gods still around – you are right, most of the other Genius Loci I knew faded. I just kept myself busy. I found new people. I may have made up a few names, too. Anextiomarus is too long to say, let alone write. There’s a reason why the name is so obscure. But, I did take on Arthur as a name for eleven incarnations. Scholars are still sorting that one out.” Richard gave Ian a smirk.

Ian’s eyes went to the bedroom, where Aidan and Dean were trying to figure out which of Aidan’s clothes were clean, which ones were acceptable, and which ones they might have to disinfect. They hadn’t heard Richard. “Did you tell them?”

“No. I’m better at keeping secrets than you lot apparently are.” Richard finally gave Ian a weak smile and stood from the table.

Ian shook his head. “Anextiomarus was in the south of England. You are very far away from your land, if you are him. Can you survive, so far away from your lands?”

“I choose my land, thank you. And I choose here, now. I choose my tribe, and therefore I choose the Dwarves. And Martin. And Peter. All, right, the whole cast and crew.” Richard sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It's part of who I am, it’s not really something I can help.”

“A traveling Genius Locus… that would be why you haven’t faded…” Ian looked Richard straight in the eye. Richard didn’t look away. “You just change… remarkable. Does Lee know?”

Richard shook his head. “I haven’t told him, either. He’s noticed that I’m a bit odd; that I love camping and being outdoors and sword fighting. It’s apparently ‘charming’, in his opinion.”

“I see,” Ian nodded to himself. A traveling tribal God who could keep a secret AND was more than a little strange. The day got more and more interesting.

“I’ve shown you my cards, your turn.” Richard crossed his arms and glared.

“Zeus,” Ian held out his hand to Richard. Richard took it and shook it. If he was surprised by the revelation, he didn’t let it show. Aidan and Dean bumped something in Aidan’s bedroom, and both Ian and Richard leaned over to see what the two had done. Whatever it was, they were both all right. “I take it I won’t be able to get you away from them, now that you know there’s been an attempt on their lives.”

“Not a snowball’s chance in Hell.” Richard confirmed.

“Even though we have protection set up for them?”

“What part of snowball and Hell did you not understand?” Richard smirked.

“I just have one last question for you,” Ian looked back at the other Englishman. Richard motioned for him to go ahead. “THE Arthur?”

“Why do you think Arthur’s campaigns span over two hundred years?” Richard grinned. “One man certainly couldn’t have been there for all those battles.”

“Seriously?”

Richard shrugged. “I liked the name.”

 

**************************

 

“How come Richard gets the couch?” Aidan pouted. “What’s he even doing here?”

“I can hear you,” Richard reminded the young man in a sing-song voice.

“Richard is here because he refuses to go away, even though it is illogical and unnecessary.” Ian called out to Aidan from his bedroom.

“I have really good hearing. I can hear both of you.”

Dean laid out the blankets on the floor, one large plush one for the bottom and one warm one for the top. There just wasn’t enough space to make two pallets. He no sooner had it done than Aidan flopped down onto it and sulked. Dean hid a smile, cut the lights, and crawled under the blanket, well, what he could get to with Aidan sitting on top of it. “Stop that. Go to sleep.” Dean yawned. Aidan rolled his eyes and got under the blanket.

Aidan didn’t ask for a story from Ian, he was too annoyed at having to sleep on the floor for a second night in a row. Instead, he rolled over on his side and threw and arm over Dean. “Night Deano.”

Dean shifted on the pallet, but Aidan’s arm didn’t move. In fact, as Aidan drifted off, the arm tightened, wrapped around Dean’s waist and staying there like superglue. Dean gave up and put his arm around Aidan. It helped save space, at least, that’s what he told himself. “Night Aid.” Dean said quietly, even though the Irishman was already sound asleep. He gave Aidan a quick kiss softly on the lips. Turnabout was fair play. It was too dark for anyone to see, wasn't it?

Richard rolled his eyes at the young heroes. He hoped those two figured out what they were doing soon, or they were headed for a lot of frustration. He sunk down in his own blankets and tried to stay vigilant. But two nights with very little sleep took their toll, and it wasn’t long before he drifted off, dreaming that he had finally found a new home: Full of people to protect and love, and full of blue skies and green hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now there's a British God in the mix.
> 
> Again, W.D. is awesome for staying up until 2am with me, working on this. I think I owe her a Pushing Daisies or Hobbit marathon.


	11. Dean finally appreciates plaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gods go drinking, Aidan hates the outdoors, and Fran proves how powerful she really is.

Days passed, and nothing happened.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Filming was going swimmingly, aside from Graham hurting his shoulder on set and having to wear a sling for several hours until Martin could fix it. Laketown sequences were coming up, and the hydraulics for the trees outside of Goblin Town were finally functioning, so it was likely that the cast would finally get to shoot those scenes.

Fran worked enchantments on Dean and Aidan’s costumes and several pieces of their favorite clothes, but only after Dean had dragged all of Aidan’s clothes to the laundromat and washed them. It would have been rude to ask a Goddess to enchant dirty clothes. Despite that, there hadn’t been another incident. Not a single attempt on their lives. It was downright dull.

Lee had left to go film a television show, giving everyone a grand farewell with the reminder that he would return with an army to battle the Dwarves and capture the King Under the Mountain (and he said he might use handcuffs for the latter of the two). Richard had laughed when Lee said that, trying to hide that he'd been upset about losing Lee. The Genius Locus sulked for precisely five hours – until Lee called him from the airport in Australia to chat. The Englishman had grinned like a fool throughout that conversation.

Outside in the trailer-village, Aidan watched as a lorry pulled Dean's new trailer into place. “Well, looks like you won’t be sleeping with me anymore."

Dean blushed. "Do you even hear yourself when you say things like that?"

"Like what?"

"Nevermind..." The Kiwi looked around. "I haven't seen Richard lately. It's been, what, thirty minutes? He doesn't leave us alone for that long..."

Aidan glanced down at the script changes he'd been given. "On the phone with Lee. They should just get married. Hey, then we'd get another uncle!"

Dean watched as the lorry's crew moved the stairs back into place and checked the trailer to make sure it wouldn't move. "Great, someone else who can follow us everywhere."

"Yeah, but he'd keep Richard busy." Aidan smirked.

Simon appeared from wherever he'd been, probably with Martin coming up with new ways to torture them. That seemed to be all he was good at - annoying them and disguising himself. Dean had to admit, it had taken him a full day on set to realize the new assistant wandering around aimlessly was Simon.

"So, lads, shall we celebrate the new home?" Simon grinned.

Dean glanced at the trailer. "I'm celebrating by unpacking all my belongings."

"That's no way to celebrate! We should go to the pub! Have a pint. Well I can't," Simon pulled an AA token out of his pocket and flashed it. "But that's no reason why everyone else can't. I'll get the others!" He dashed off before Dean could argue.

In a matter of minutes, Dean and Aidan found themselves being manhandled into one of the studio's vans, along with Richard and the Greek Gods on set. A short trip later, and Simon was paying for (though not drinking) the first round in a private room in the pub.

"To Dean's new home and the new God in our midst!" Simon held up his mug of cider.

"To Dean and Richard!" Martin held up his drink. The rest of the Greek Gods followed. Ian gave Martin a nod and sipped his wine from his spot in the corner.

Aidan nudged Dean. "Did we miss something?"

The answer came from James, who was already halfway through his first beer. "Sorry, I think we forgot to tell you. Richard's a God. Well, British, not Greek. We just found out. Bloody spectacular, isn't it? Oh, and he's King Arthur. Was King Arthur. Sorry."

Dean and Aidan shared a glance. "You lie," Dean grinned.

"No, he's not. Name is Anextiomarus, I was King Arthur for several incarnations, and no, I don't have any powers left. Not that my powers would've been useful, anyway. Most of it was knowing the land down to every blade of grass and knowing where my people were at all times. Not useful nowadays." Richard grinned at the boys. "I didn't know about the Greeks until you led me to them. I found it... enlightening."

"Here, here! Let's let our newest God tell us a story of his past! Maybe something of Guinevere...." Mark waggled his eyebrows.

Richard stood on his chair and began the tale of how he and the Lady Guinevere had met. He'd gotten to the part where he'd taken her back to Camelot (which was apparently just what he'd called the castle), when he froze. The handsome man's eyes unfocused for just a moment, and he looked confused. "I... I can't remember the rest." He said, climbing down from the chair and sat down, finishing off his beer and looking worried.

He wasn't the only one worried. While the rest teased him about going senile in his old age, Ian watched them from his corner. Gods didn't usually forget major events - it was common for Gods to lose some memories over time - but it was usually the dull moments, not the triumphant return to Camelot! He'd seen this before; the forgetting and inability to use powers. It hadn't turned out well.

Anextiomarus was fading, dying, despite clinging onto life for so long.

When Ian had seen this before, the God in question had two, maybe three lives left before they stopped being reborn. They just... vanished. Some had known it, some had not. Richard obviously didn't. As the rest of the Gods and the two young mortals cheerfully told embarrassing stories about women they'd been with, Ian got up and left the room for fresh air.

He needed to think.

**************************

Simon had been on set for two weeks and there still had been no sign of Hephaestus. Whatever the God of fire was doing, he wasn't being obvious about his identity. Of course, they had a potential age-range of zero to seventy-four; nobody knew when the last time Hephaestus had died. It was like looking for an enchanted ring in a lake.

Inside Ian's trailer, Simon was fiddling with a paper straw wrapper and Martin was looking depressed. "Still no luck." Simon sighed.

"Any visions?" Ian asked of Martin.

Martin shook his head. "Nothing for Hephaestus, nothing for Athena."

"I tried threat-calling Aphrodite to flush out Hephaestus, but all that happened was I got told to go fuck myself in some VERY creative ways." Simon explained. "I don't think Athena's shown up on set, either."

Ian didn't say anything else about Athena. He had all but given up on Athena turning up on the set. He had hoped, as he was sure Peter had, that Athena would have caught wind of the project and gotten curious, maybe even tried to apply for a job on set. It had been a weak possibility, but it still had been a possibility. They’d researched every female they brought on set in the right age range, but nobody seemed to have the right characteristics for Athena. Athena could never act (even Odysseus had figured it out one of the few times she had tried) so the chance of her keeping a low profile by acting like someone she wasn’t just wouldn’t fly.

"All of this for nothing," Martin sighed, taking a sip of his tea.

"No," Ian shook his head. "Now, it's up to the publicity – the movies coming out, the interviews, and talking to agents about certain people being available for said publicity. With Hephaestus running about, it may be best that she hasn't come to us yet. She'll turn up, have faith."

"That's a funny thing to say to us, you now that?" Simon chuckled. "Anyway, I was thinking of setting up surveillance outside Dean and Aidan's trailers. They've finally gotten everything back into Dean's place, and I figure Hephaestus'll try again now that the boys are settled. Nothing better to distract someone from danger than a sense of security." He nodded, still fiddling with the straw wrapper. Ian took it away from him and tossed it into the bin. It was distracting.

It was a good idea. Peter had planned a ten-day break for most of the actors, and several of them were heading home for the break. Simon and Peter could easily rig up some cameras without being noticed while the mortals were gone. "You have my blessing. Speaking of our youngsters, Dean had complained that you two are driving him insane."

Martin took another biscuit from the plate. "Just good, clean fun. We wouldn't drive him insane if they didn't drive everyone else insane."

Ian nodded. "Good point. So, we continue surveillance. I'll make a few calls myself, see if I can get an age range for our Fire God from one of the neutrals."

Simon snorted. "Good luck with that. The neutrals don't give up anything."

**********************************

Martin had flown up to England to visit his family during the break, promising that he'd bring his children back down to visit Uncle Simon, Uncle Peter, and Auntie Fran. James made arrangements for his daughters to spend a few weeks in New Zealand. Stephen headed back to Australia, the New Zealand cast returned to their homes and families, and Adam brought his wife and children down for a vacation.

Aidan thought about heading back to Ireland, but realized that not only would his flights back to the U.K. be a nightmare, but that he’d likely spend the entire time with his parents sleeping off the jet lag before he had to return. They were disappointed, but made him promise to call daily to make up for it. Dean made a trip to visit his own parents and stayed at his home in Auckland for a couple days, retrieving his T.V. and some of the camera lenses he had stored there before returning back to the set.

So there they were, two modern heroes bored out of their minds at one of their favourite Wellington restaurants.

“We should go tramping,” Dean suggested as their food arrived. “I lost three rolls of film from when we went camping in that fire. I need to replace them.”

“What?” Aidan gave Dean a funny look.

“Hiking. Sorry.” Dean explained. Aidan required regular translation of certain words.

“It’s called rambling. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Aidan accused.

Dean stuck his chin in hands, his elbows on the table. “Why not? It’s fun.”

“Outdoors, are you sure? In nature. Outside for FUN? You're crazy. Let's see, yes, lots of bugs that try to eat you, stupid little holes in the ground that you can twist your ankle in, you wind up all hot and sweaty and NOT in a fun way, and at the end, all you’ve done is go a big circle. I’m lazy, and that doesn’t sound like fun.” Aidan grumbled. "We don't even need to discuss your fake bear attack from the camping trip."

Dean laughed, thinking about Aidan all hot and sweaty. Curse his mental imagery! “It’s just a few hours, not like camping. We won't stay the night.”

“No.”

“You are really anti-nature, aren’t you?”

Aidan took offense. “No! I like horse riding! I like landscapes, as long as I can see them from inside my car. With the heat on.” He punctuated that by stuffing a forkful of food into his mouth.

“Come on,” Dean leaned over and tugged at Aidan. “It’ll be fun.” Aidan scowled and shook his head, trying to remember not to talk with his mouth full. “You know I’m going to make you go with me, one way or another.” Dean smirked.

“You can try,” Aidan then waved down the waitress to order desert. He didn't see Dean smirk to himself.The conversation wasn't over.

**********************************

The next morning, Aidan was woken by the sound of banging on his trailer door. He groaned and looked at his alarm clock. 6am.

“What the fuck is an’body doin’ awake at this ungodly hour?” Aidan groaned. He rolled over in bed and stuck his pillow over his head.

The banging didn’t cease.

Aidan finally rolled out of bed, put a pair of pyjama pants on (why the hell did he think it was a good idea to go to bed in just his underwear? He couldn’t remember why he’d done it), stormed over to the door, and snatched it open. “This place better be on fire, or somethin’.” He growled at the offending door-banger.

Dean stood there, mouth slightly open. He’d put on the red plaid shirt that belonged to Aidan, old jeans, and was carrying his camera bag and a backpack. Aidan gave his best friend his best death glare. "No... NO."

Dean lost the ability to speak.

They’d had enough sleepovers – Dean wondered if that made them sound like kids, sleepovers – that Dean knew what Aidan looked like in the morning. Aidan’s curls would be wild from shifting in his sleep, his accent always got thick to the point where Dean sometimes had trouble understanding it, and Aidan’s eyes would always be heavy from sleep for the first twenty or so minutes.

Aidan rudely awakened was much different. Dean had to stop and stare, taking in this version of Aidan. From bare feet to the dark curls atop his head. Too bad his camera was packed up, this Aidan was a work of art that should be photographed. Aidan apparently hadn’t worn a shirt when he’d gone to bed, so his chest was bare. Hairy, with a slight paunch from eating too many sweets lately, but he still had a decent amount of defined muscle, especially in chest in arms – it was a perfect balance of cuddly and sexy. Aidan’s curls were as wilder than usual, Dean was willing to bet Aidan had gone to bed with his hair wet, and Aidan’s death glare… Well, Dean could only describe it as ‘hot’. It was just NOT FAIR that Aidan was Dean’s best friend, not when Dean’s imagination was coming up with a dozen ways and situations for that glare to be focused on him… most of them weren’t with Dean standing outside his trailer. Most of them involved closed doors and lots of time spent behind them showing his friend just how he felt about him.

“No.” Aidan huffed. “Do you ev’n realize what fucking time it is?”

Dean shook his head to clear it, telling his imagination to shut up. “Bright and early. Come on. We’ve got to get going, or we’ll miss all the morning shots.”

“Shots of what?” Aidan’s glare didn’t change, but his voice held a bit of whine.

“I dunno, whatever we find on the trails. Come on. Get dressed, let’s go. I’ve got water, food, and a map. The trail’s about twenty kilometer drive.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind.” Aidan tried to shut the door on Dean. In one motion, Dean pulled himself up the steps to the doorway and stuck his foot – well-protected by his steel-toed hiking books – into the jam. Using the handrail outside the trailer, Dean got enough balance to shove at the door. Aidan, on his side of the door, was pushed back by the act just enough that Dean managed to worm his way inside. “I’m not going.” Aidan scowled at him.

Dean grinned.

Fifteen minutes later, Aidan sat inside Dean’s car, scowling at everything and thinking of how much of a sneaky bastard Dean was. He still wasn’t sure how Dean had maneuvered him into the car. He knew that once Dean had gotten inside Aidan’s trailer, the blonde had meticulously picked out an old sweater, making Aidan layer it over a T-shirt that had holes in it. He’d found a suitable pair of jeans and the closest thing to hiking boots Aidan owned and forced the Irishman to wear them. He’d found Aidan’s pack and grabbed that. Then, once he’d gotten Aidan outside the trailer, he’d sprayed the Irishman with bug repellent – liberally. Dean had then forced a granola bar into his hand, telling him it was breakfast and he’d better eat it on the drive.

Aidan was pretty sure he was in hell, and his best friend was one of Satan's minions, as he glared out the window and munched on the granola bar.

Dean pulled up at the nature trail’s car-park, cheerfully checked his equipment and then went to work on Aidan’s pack. He pulled supplies from the backseat and shoved them into the pack: water, more granola, a flare (just in case, Dean had said), and some other items Aidan couldn’t identify. Then, he locked his car before herding the brunette to the trail.

It was at least twenty minutes before Aidan finally allowed himself to stop sulking – Dean was apparently immune to both his puppy-dog face and sulking face – damn it all. He trudged along behind Dean, trying to enjoy the trees and river and everything else around him and keep up with the Kiwi.

Dean, however…

Aidan wasn’t sure how Dean did it. The older man bounced from tree to tree, leaf to leaf, flower to flower. He wasn’t sure what Dean was looking for, but he was fairly certain that Dean was part mountain goat, or something. Did they have mountain goats in New Zealand? Aidan reminded himself to Wikipedia that as soon as he got back. Dean bounded up and down the trail and over there to this random tree and then back to the edge of the river and Aidan didn’t stand a chance at keeping up. The Kiwi climbed over rocks and dangled over edges to get just the right shot. He was a whirlwind of activity, far more so than he’d ever been on the set.

And he was just about glowing while doing it.

Aidan watched as Dean bounced about like a child, telling the Irishman about this plant, or how to get that shot, or something else that Aidan wasn’t really paying attention to. Aidan was more captivated by Dean himself. Dean, who was apparently oblivious to Aidan’s quiet stares and probably was happier than Aidan had ever seen him. Dean, full of life and loving it. Aidan reminded himself several times that he wasn’t here to drool over Dean,  and he did his best to keep up and watch his footing as best he could. Why couldn’t nature just be flat? He remembered to drink his water, even though the air was cool around them, and tried to not swear at the random twigs that attached themselves to his clothing at the worst moments.

They broke their hike for a lunch, which consisted of sandwiches Dean swore he’d bought and not made himself. Seeing as they were edible, Aidan was inclined to believe him. They checked the topographic map Dean had brought along, trying to work out exactly where they were and how to get back to the car. All Aidan saw was circular patterns on the paper, but Dean could apparently work it out.

“See that?” Dean pointed to one circle on the paper. "That’s the highest point, if you look at the numbers. That’s that – “ he pointed off to his left. “Hill right here. I can tell, because we passed that valley before, and these –“ He motioned to the map again. “are low points. When you combine the two features, you can locate your position. Does it make sense?”

“You dragged me out of bed and into the wilderness with a broken map. No.” Aidan tried to look annoyed.

“You’re teasing me, right?” Dean arched an eyebrow.

“If you can’t tell, then I’m going to start worrying about you, mate.”

Dean laughed, stood, and pulled Aidan up from where he'd been sitting on the rocks. He used some sort of magic Aidan had never seen before to make the compass tell them exactly what direction to go to get back to the car-park. Or at least, that’s what the younger man was going to claim. No way a little needle could tell them exactly how to get home.

The Irishman was still trying to figure out how the compass worked – Dean tried to explain, but the word azimuth had Aidan stumped, and it was apparently very important for using a compass – when his foot found one of those uneven spots he’d tried to be so careful about

“Motherfucker!” Was all Aidan got out as he went down, hitting the forest floor. “Christ, that hurt!”

Dean was at his friend’s side in an instant. Apparently, mountain goats could do that. “What happened?”

“Motherfucking root is what happened! Damn nature!” The Irishman was holding his leg, rocking back and forth.

“Let me see,” Dean reached over and pulled at Aidan’s sock, trying to assess the damage. Nothing there, so he rolled up the jeans to check. No damage. The Kiwi then tugged at the boot. Aidan hissed and slapped Dean’s hands away.

“Stop, stop, stop. You fucking arsehole!”

“We’ve gotta take a look at it.” Dean carefully pulled the boot off, trying to ignore the swearing and the whimpers from Aidan. The ankle was swollen but not bruised. That was, mostly, a good thing. Dean got Aidan to wiggle his toes, making sure that the foot wasn’t broken. Aidan swore at him, but managed it. Another good thing. “I think it’s a sprain.”

“And you wonder why I don’t like rambling,” Aidan grumbled.

“Could’ve been a break.”

“I’ll break you in a second. Peter is going to throw a fit.”

Dean ignored the Irishman. He pulled out some sort of box from his backpack, and fished out a strange blue pouch and an ace bandage from the box. After crinkling up the pouch and letting it rest for a few seconds, he pulled Aidan’s sock up, and used the bandage to secure the pouch to the sprain. Aidan almost jumped when he realized the pouch was icy to the touch. He helped Aidan replace the boot, with difficulty, and pulled him up, taking Aidan’s backpack away from him. He pulled an arm around Aidan’s waist and took Aidan’s arm and draped it over his own shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m shorter than you. Let’s get moving. Don’t walk on it, lean on me, okay?” Aidan nodded.

After two false starts, they managed to get moving again, Aidan leaning most of his weight on the blonde. They had to stop a few times to let Dean rest and check his compass, and getting back took far longer than it had any right to. Still, Dean never let Aidan walk alone, keeping his arm around the Irishman’s waist almost the entire time. It wasn’t easy; there were trip ups and a few times where Aidan bumped his ankle and had to grit his teeth to keep from swearing.

There were three things Aidan could focus on: His ankle, the forest, and Dean. Focusing on his ankle wasn’t productive in the slightest, and focusing on the forest just made Aidan more annoyed over his ankle. So he focused on Dean. From his vantage point, pulled up close to the Kiwi’s side, he could smell Dean. Not the cologne Dean loved to wear whenever they went out, but actual, real, Dean. Dean’s presence at Aidan’s side was warm, despite the layers of clothing, and solid. Dean was always worried that he appeared to be small, from his hands to his height, but Aidan didn’t think so. Never had. And Dean was still wearing that plaid shirt Aidan had loaned him – why hadn’t he ever given it back? Dean’s arm was wrapped securely around his waist, but instead of feeling like in intrusion, it felt… natural. Come to think of it, how often was he touching Dean, leaning back to poke at him or put an arm on his chair? How often had he laid his head on Dean’s shoulder or lap, not even thinking about personal space. How often had Dean done the same thing; put an arm around him or put his head on Aidan’s shoulder? Very often. How come Aidan had never noticed before now?

Oh, dear God.

By the time they had gotten back to the car, Aidan knew two things: One, it was late in the afternoon and Peter was not going to be happy with them; and two, when it came to Dean, his emotions had taken a new path while ago and couldn't backtrack.

 

**********************************

 

“Do I even get an explanation?” Liz crossed her arms and glared at them as Dean carefully walked a tattered Aidan into the clinic.

“Aidan is clumsy?” Dean hazarded a guess.

“Trees suck,” Aidan explained.

Liz did her best to stay professional and didn’t roll her eyes. It wasn't easy. “At least it’s not a set injury this time.” She gave Dean a sideways glance. “I’m still wondering how you broke that finger.” Dean ducked his head. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it was while he, Adam, and Aidan had been running around with their prop weapons and Adam had managed to land a hit with the tiny ‘sword’ he carried. Although, seeing Adam shout ‘are you okay’ repeatedly had been pretty funny. At least he hadn’t gotten Dean with the slingshot.

Minutes later, Aidan was up on one of the gurneys and Liz had his boot and sock off. She frowned at the ice pack, especially when she found out that Dean hadn’t removed it since applying it. He got a swift talking to about leaving cold on skin, even with the sock in between them, for too long and the damage it could do as Liz poked Aidan’s ankle. It wasn’t hard for her to determine that it was a sprain, and it didn’t seem to be a bad one. She gave Aidan a small bottle of painkillers and set of three regular ice packs with instructions to only use them in twenty-minute increments, and told Aidan to keep off the ankle for at least 48 hours.

As they tried to leave, Aidan again being supported by Dean, they found their path blocked.

Three angry men were in the doorway.

“Peter, Ian, Richard… hi.” Dean waved the fingers of his free hand. “How’re you?”

“Gone all day, no information about where you were, and then you suddenly pop up in the clinic with Aidan injured.” Peter’s arms were crossed and he did his best to look intimidating. It was hard to do when even Dean was taller than him.

“It’s my fault,” Aidan tried. “I just wasn’t watching where I was going. I tripped, is all.”

“Mm-hm…” Ian didn’t look like he believed them, especially when he glanced over the dirty and torn clothes Aidan was sporting. Was that a smirk the Wizard flashed?

“Can we do this somewhere else? Aidan’s heavy.” Dean begged. Aidan gave him a glare but kept his mouth wisely shut.

Richard moved forward and took Aidan from Dean, along with the ice packs and medication. “I’ll get him settled. You lot do whatever you were planning.”

Dean gulped.

 

**************************

 

After what was surely hours, no matter what his watch said, Dean was finally allowed to return to his trailer. Ian and Peter weren’t nearly as furious as they’d been pretending, but they’d given him hell for not taking his mobile with him. He’d received an extensive lecture on telling people where the hell he was going when it involved being cut off from civilization, and though he’d tried to point out that he’d done it several times without incident and knew that area fairly well, it didn’t help him in the long run. Peter had even threatened to microchip him in the buttocks, but Dean was fairly certain that was a joke. Probably. Maybe.

He’d take his mobile the next time he went hiking, that much was for sure.

The return trip to his trailer was a short one, after Dean picked up the backpacks from the car. He was surprised to find his trailer unlocked and the light on. Surely he hadn’t left it that way this morning. Inside, he found the culprit. Aidan was rolled up in a blanket on his couch, foot elevated with another blanket, drinking what looked like a glass of juice and being entertained by Laurel and Hardy. “Hey Deano.”

“Did you finally remember what you did with my spare key?” Dean’s grin gave away any semblance of annoyance from that sentence.

“Richard can pick locks. Did’ja know that? He brought food, put it in the fridge. And he put the cold things in the fridge, too. He took your beer, though. That made me sad. He said I couldn’t have any because of the painkillers. An’ he made me drink juice, oh, an’ eat something… what was it? It was wicked good. An’ made me put my foot up. He said I have to stay here because you dragged me out there an’ that someone’s gotta look after me.” Aidan’s Irish accent was back at full force. It was easy to forget how much Aidan toned it down most of the time. The brunette grinned at Dean like a five-year-old who had been given cake.

“And I see you’ve already taken one of the painkillers,” Dean nodded, dumping both packs by the couch and taking a seat on the floor.

“How’d you guess?” Aidan looked confused.

“Intuition.”

“Oh. Okay.” Aidan nodded happily.

Dean rolled his eyes. At least Aidan’s loopy behavior wasn’t caused by hefty amounts of alcohol this time. He still remembered that night where he’d stupidly dragged Aidan to the clinic over, as he found out much later, was really just a drunk escapade. Actually, it seemed he did a lot of dragging Aidan places when the Irishman was incapacitated. Then again, Aidan had taken care of him after the fire, so he was pretty sure they were even. “Come on, let’s get you moved. You’ll fall off the couch in your state.” He moved to help Aidan up.

“Where’re we goin’?”

“The bedroom.”

Aidan giggled. “Bedroom! But we haven’t even made out or nuthin’. Can’t go to the bedroom with’t makin’ out.”

“You’re going to sleep off those meds,” Dean ducked his head and hoped Aidan wouldn’t see the blush. “Come on.”

Maneuvering a drugged Aidan was harder than a drunk Aidan or a wounded Aidan. A drunk Aidan went wherever you wanted him to go, after you got him started. A wounded Aidan did the same, but with more complaints. A drugged Aidan wanted to hug Dean and said things such as "You're so good to me, I love you. What would I do without you?" Repeatedly. Dean's sanity was having trouble handling it, not to mention that he'd accidentally grabbed Aidan in a few inappropriate spots when Aidan had shifted on him. It took a while but Dean finally got Aidan to the bedroom. "You're the bestest person in the whole world." Aidan mumbled.

He settled the Irishman in his bed and helped prop the wounded ankle back up. Aidan’s eyes fluttered closed, and Dean took a moment to just stare. This little Irish pain in the ass had him wrapped around his little finger, and the brunette didn’t even know it. Wouldn’t know it. Couldn’t know it, if his first reaction to waking up in Dean’s bed all those months ago had been any indication of what he thought of… well…

Still, Dean stared down and felt guilt. He’d gotten his day out with Aidan, but the Irishman’s tumble was a sure sign of bad luck. Not that Dean believed in luck. Still, it didn’t bode well for any future outings. Aidan’s breathing finally steadied, and Dean leaned forward and gave the Irishman a kiss on the cheek. Hell with it, he already felt guilty, why not? Aidan shifted slightly in the bed, and Dean froze where he was, next to Aidan’s cheek. He hadn’t woken Aidan up, had he? Those painkillers were pretty strong, he couldn’t have.

Dean was about to get up from the bed to find something to eat – he hoped to whatever deity liked him that week that Richard had brought something microwavable – when Aidan whispered his name, eyes still closed. “Deano?”

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.” Aidan shifted a bit and pressed his lips to Dean’s. It wasn’t that hard, just a slight movement and their lips were pressed together in something oh-so-very sweet. It lasted long enough for Dean to come up with a thousand things he could do with Aidan in the bed. “You're so cute. With your blonde hair and your blue eyes and those silly little dimples." Aidan grinned. "Do you know that?"

Dean’s breath hitched, he felt heat rising in his cheeks. “Good night, Aidan.”

"Night Deano." Aidan murmured.

He didn’t ask Aidan what he had meant. He was too scared to.

 

*****************************

 

Dean slept on his own couch that night, with all his clothes on.

Whatever Liz had given Aidan kept the Irishman asleep all night and well into the next morning. Dean’s morning was incredibly dull. He’d started by finding the doughnuts Richard had left in his fridge and ate two of them – he was seriously thinking about converting to Anextiomarism, or something - then tidied up a bit, grabbing that red flannel shirt from the couch and tying it around his waist as he worked. Dean cleaned out Aidan’s backpack and put the supplies away, but left Aidan’s phone in the pack since he didn’t know what else to do with it. Going through his own pack, Dean located both his cameras and was promptly distracted by going through the photos he’d taken with the digital camera, which was what he was doing when Aidan stumbled through the trailer, reminding Dean of a newborn giraffe. After an argument, which ended with Dean telling Aidan that Liz, Peter, Ian, and Richard would probably kill him if he let the Irishman get up and walk around; Aidan reluctantly agreed to stay on Dean’s couch for the remainder of the day, but only if he got to watch movies.

Neither talked about the kiss, though Aidan kept glancing at Dean as Dean moved about the trailer. Dean could only catch him out of the corner of his eye, but Aidan’s eyes would quickly shift back to the tele whenever Dean would move to look at him.

“We’re very lucky there’s still three days of holiday, or Peter would’ve skinned us alive.” Dean pointed out some time after he’d uploaded all his photos to his laptop and stored the film he’d used the day before. He was tired of the quiet. Aidan didn’t DO quiet unless he was asleep, it was unnerving.

Aidan shrugged. “We’ve had worse during filming.”

“True, but that wasn’t our own fault. This one we can’t pin on anybody else.” Dean pulled a doughnut out of the fridge for Aidan, grabbing some milk for him as well. He also pulled out the bottle of painkillers Liz had given them. “Aid, this stuff throws you for a loop.” He held up the bottle. “D’you want ‘em or would you rather go for the over-the-counter stuff.”

Aidan made a face. “Over-the-counter. I can handle a sprained ankle, thank you.” He wasn’t going to let some tree root make a candy-ass out of him. Dean nodded and tossed the rest of the prescription bottle in the bin before grabbing some over-the-counter painkillers and plopping them on the plate with the doughnut.

“Breakfast is served!” Dean presented the plate to Aidan.

“You’re not going to food-poison me, are you?”

“It’s a doughnut. I didn’t even buy it. And the milk’s still good, I just had some.” Dean mock-scowled.

“Since you didn’t buy the doughnuts, you have no idea if it’ll kill me or not. I mean, you already tried once with that whole rambling excursion.” Aidan pinched off a piece of the doughnut and held it up. "I believe I require a food-tester."

"Fine," Dean let Aidan feed him the pastry, carefully trying to ignore how Aidan's fingers on his lips felt. "See, not dead. Now eat your damn breakfast.” Dean laughed.

Aidan dutifully munched down the breakfast while Dean retrieved an ice pack from his freezer to put on the ankle – no more than twenty minutes, according to Liz. He made himself comfortable on the carpet and leaned against the couch, near Aidan. Aidan scooted down enough to let his fingers trail over Dean's shoulder and part of his torso, but neither said anything about it. Aidan didn’t even doze off this time; the painkillers didn’t diminish everything and Aidan kept having twinges in his ankle and all the way up his leg, so falling asleep accidentally wasn’t an option until his ankle decided it liked him again. 

The two of them were well into the second movie when a knock came at the door. Dean pulled open the door to reveal a man with a familiar ball cap pulled over his face. “Simon! Hey, what’s up? Does Peter need-“ Dean didn’t get the chance to finish. By the time Dean realized it wasn’t Simon, the man had lifted the hand he’d had close to his thigh and brought it straight to Dean. A flash of black in the man’s hands, and a strange ‘whump’ was heard before Dean felt himself being shoved backwards like a rag doll. He didn’t even register that the man had run off.

Usually, Aidan was the one who swore. Aidan had picked up every single Khuzdul swear word Richard had taught them, several Ancient Greek ones that Mark and James had explained, and knew a variety of Irish ones that he’d intermingle with English.

What Dean said made Aidan’s eyes go wide in shock. The Irishman was pretty sure there were Maori swear words in there, too.

“What the hell happened? Dean?” Aidan moved to get off the couch.

“Don’t you move.” Dean gasped out. “Don’t you dare move or I will… I don’t know. I’ll do something mean.” He held up a hand. “Phone. Your phone. Pack.”

Aidan set his jaw. He reached into the backpack he’d used yesterday, both packs still sitting on the floor by the couch because Aidan and Dean had both been too lazy to move them after breakfast. Thank God for laziness. Or Gods. Whatever. Graham’s was the first God’s number to come up on his autodial – Dwalin came pretty high in the alphabet. He slid himself off the couch and knee-walked over to Dean, despite the Kiwi telling him to stay there with a variety of colourful language coming out of his mouth. “I’m not on my foot, shut up.” Aidan growled as he dialed. “What happened?” Dean shook his head, curling himself into a ball.

Two rings in, Graham answered. “Graham? Graham, it’s me. AIDAN, you twat! We’re in Dean’s trailer. Why the hell would you think that we’re doing THAT? Have you been talking to Martin? I’m breathing heavy because Dean’s on the floor hurt! Some guy came up and he… I don’t know! Dean’s hurt. No, no, the guy’s gone. JUST GET OVER HERE.” Aidan threw the phone down and leaned over his friend.

Dean hadn’t caught most of the conversation. All he knew is that Aidan should be on the damn couch resting, and not where whoever that was could come back and… that had been a gun. A gun. Dean stayed crumpled up in a ball on his trailer floor, pain almost beyond bearable. He’d been shot. Aidan needed to get the hell out of there, because that man with the gun could come back. Dean didn’t realize that Simon arrived as Aidan was talking to Graham over the phone, asking Dean a million questions that Dean just shook his head to. Dean didn’t register when Graham arrived and forcibly rolled him on his back and held him down, nor when several other castmates gathered around his door. He didn’t have the satisfaction of seeing Orlando look worried, and he wasn’t able to see that Ken was furiously shoving crew out of his way because damn it, those kids might annoy him but they were still part of their weird pseudo-family.

The plaid shirt was nearly torn off his waist, followed by his T-shirt being pulled up as high as it would go. Dean was sure someone was unbuttoning his trousers, but he didn’t fight them, it all just hurt too much. He heard Graham call for James, and that James pushed Aidan to the side and checked Dean’s pulse. He wasn’t sure what that would do, because the pain in his abdomen didn’t change. James mumbled something to Graham that, although the Kiwi could hear it, was incomprehensible to Dean: “Three times. He’s beaten all Three of the Moirai. They can’t touch him now, it wouldn’t work anyway. They’ll hit Aidan next.” Dean didn’t see the relieved grin that broke out on Graham’s face.

Liz arrived soon after, forcing most of the crowd to disperse. She tried to force Ian, Richard, James, Graham, and the decently disguised Simon to leave, but to no avail. She took a look at Dean’s undressed state and let out a sigh of relief. “Dean, Dean focus on me for just a second. I can make it go away long enough for you to get your bearings. Just focus.” Her voice went very dreamy, and Dean was sure she was pretending to be an Elf. “I can’t take the pain away forever, just long enough. Keep listening, that’s it. Listen, listen, listen. I’m just going to keep talking, and you’re just going to listen. Tell me when it stops hurting enough. But listen until that happens.” She rambled on, not stopping to even take a breath. Her eyes went from brown to gold, and she never stopped talking. She eventually ran out of ramblings, and started in on the lyrics for pop songs before the pain lessened enough for Dean to talk coherently.

“I got shot,” Dean coughed as he said it. He didn’t try to sit up, but he looked around. Aidan was sitting by his head, one leg stretched out and the other tucked beneath him. “He had a gun. I thought there’d be more blood.” He pulled at his shirt, all bunched around his upper chest

“Okay, you’ve been shot.” Liz frowned.

“Dean, you were wearing that shirt, weren’t you?” Graham asked.

“Which shirt?

“MY shirt,” Aidan told him. “My plaid one.”

“Yeah, I picked it up. It needs washing, it’s dirty. Did I get blood on it? Sorry, mate. I mean, it’s an ugly shirt, but still.” Dean frowned. He’d picked it up while cleaning and had… And had tied it around his waist!

“No blood,” James grinned down at him. “Fran knows her stuff.” He pulled out his mobile and took a picture, then handed it to Dean. “Don’t get up, Liz's anesthesia won’t last forever. But look.”

So Dean did. The photo of him showed him in a terrible state of undress, but instead of a bullet hole, there was an enormous bruise forming on his abdomen. It started from a point under his boxers and spread to just above his navel, and spreading out to form a perfect circle. “No bullet?”

“Oh, no, there’s a bullet all right,” Simon was grinning as he fished through the horrid plaid shirt. He pulled out a flattened object, something like a squished piece of black clay. “That’s your bullet.”

“How did he fire that?” Aidan asked, staring at the metal.

“It wasn’t like this to begin with. Sudden stop did it.” Simon smiled. He handed the bullet to Dean. “Might want to keep that. Good trophy. Fran’s going to be excited that her spell worked so well. Point-blank range, too. I mean, you’re gonna be black and blue, and you’re gonna to hurt like hell, but kid, you’re alive.” Simon laughed lightly.

Dean wrapped his hand around the bullet. Aidan wrapped his hand around Dean's tightly. They both knew that if he hadn’t stopped to clean up part of the mess, hadn’t wrapped that stupid shirt around his waist, he would be dead. It was just… “That’s… impossible.” He heard Aidan give a bark of laughter.

Ian finally spoke up. “Jimmy, I saw you check his pulse. What did you find?”

James nodded. “He’s beat all three Fates. Thrice they tried and thrice they failed.”

“What?” Aidan looked confused. Dean was glad Aidan had said it, the pain was slowly trickling back.

“A God can only try to kill someone three times. After that, the mortal’s off the books for any God. It’s because the Fates have each tried to cut the life thread on the behalf of the Gods, and the life thread didn’t fall to the attempt. Three Fates, three tries. It’ll be a lot tougher for another mortal to off one who’s escaped it, too.” James explained. At Dean and Aidan’s incredulous looks, the older Irishman sighed. “You two seem to forget I’m the God of Mortality, too. Sheesh. I’ve got this stuff down pat.”

“I thought you said they were just scaring us off.” Aidan protested.

“We lied,” Ian admitted. “Really, you should have been paying attention to the stories, we don’t always tell the truth. Most of the time, but not all. Fran didn’t want you to worry.”

“You didn’t say that this whole bait thing could kill us,” Aidan clenched his other fist, still holding onto Dean's hand with first.

“Actually, they sort of did.” Dean interjected.

“Usually the other Gods don’t do this. Hephaestus is a wild card, he and Aries are the only ones who would try something like this. Most of the others wouldn’t dare, they’re too afraid of incurring his,” Graham nodded at Ian “wrath.”

“Why’d he shoot me in the stomach?” Dean winced. The trickle of pain was getting stronger.

“Angle,” Liz answered. “The steps of the trailer and the fact that he didn’t want the gun to be noticed, he couldn’t point it any higher. He was probably going for your intestines; that could kill you too. A rupture there would have put all sorts of bacteria in your system, hard to counteract, even in modern medicine. It’s also very hard to stop any internal bleeding there. And it would’ve been more painful than going for a lung or the heart. Dean, I’m not my mother Epione, the pain is going to come back soon. Do you remember what the gunman looked like?” Dean shook his head. Liz asked the same of Aidan, who had the same response.

“No need,” Simon said, producing a tablet. “I was pretending I was a trash guy, but I was really installing a camera to watch your door. By the way, you have NO idea how hard it is to drag a bin around without people realizing you haven’t actually picked up any trash. I’ll bet I got our culprit.” Richard grabbed at the tablet and started pressing buttons. Simon muttered something about pushy Tribal Gods and took the tablet back, knowing full well Richard was more likely to accidentally erase the footage than play it.

As most of the Gods stared at the playback on the camera, Dean leaned his head back on the carpet and closed his eyes. The pain was blossoming from his abdomen again, making up for lost time, it seemed. Liz smoothed his hair and muttered nonsense at him, but this time her anesthesia didn’t work. She apologized, over and over, that there wasn’t anything she could do this time.

“Why can’t you do it again?” Aidan asked the doctor, shifting so that Dean’s head was touching his good leg.

“I can only do it once so often for each mortal, the effect… it’s like taking pain medicine, the effects lessen each time. I can usually do this once or twice for each mortal I use it on, within about a seven month period. I’m not a pain Goddess. I’m a remedy Goddess. I know cures, I know medicines. I could run circles around my sisters when it comes to knowing HOW to fix things, but I’m afraid I’m badly behind in fixing it magically.” Liz looked sad. “Epione, Panacea, Aceso, Telesphorus, they could do it. My father Asclepius could certainly do it. Apollo, he’s my grandfather, you know, he could do it in the blink of an eye. Not me. BUT,” she gave Aidan a small smile. “I’d like to see any of them figure out modern medicine. They wouldn’t even get halfway through medical school. I was top of my class.”

“Medicine…” Aidan mumbled. He slid over, trying to use his sprained ankle as little as possible, to the bin in Dean’s tiny kitchenette. He pulled out the pain medication Liz had given him. “I know you put my name on the label, but can he take this?”

“You should never share your medicine with anybody,” Liz admonished. “Are you going to take any more of it?”

Aidan shook his head, “I took it once, don’t like the effects. It makes me stupid and very tired.”

“Then it needs to go to a doctor for disposal. Hand it over.” He slid back and pressed the bottle in her hand, looking sheepish. She looked at it and sighed. “I could lose my license over this.” She handed the bottle back to Aidan and closed her eyes. “I see nothing. Dean will get no medication until it is prescribed by me, no he won’t. Of course, what I’ll prescribe will be about the same thing that I prescribed Aidan, but that doesn’t mean anything.” Aidan took the clue, shook out a pill, and coaxed Dean into taking it. He made a show of rattling the bottle as soon as he put the lid back on. As soon as Liz opened her eyes again, Aidan handed the bottle back. She nodded at him. “So you took two doses, then?”

Aidan put on his flashiest smile. “Two doses.”

“If you’re done breaking human laws, I’d like to see if Aidan or Dean recognise this man.” Ian gave Liz a disapproving glare. She ducked her head and didn’t make eye contact.

Graham leaned back over and showed the lads the picture they’d captured of a man running in profile, hat up just enough to get a good look at him. The picture on the small screen was grainy, and not in good light. Aidan gave them a small shake of his head. Dean took a look, hoping that he’d be able to tell them something more before the pain or medication took over.

“That God is over Fire, isn’t he?” Dean asked. Graham nodded. Dean couldn't stifle a groan of pain. "He's the pizza delivery guy."

Mark coughed from the back of the group. "That explains why the pizza’s the only thing that gets here hot when we order delivery."

Everyone exchanged looks as Dean closed his eyes and ignored the world. The last thing he heard before passing out was Richard saying: “We probably should teach Dean how to cook.”


	12. Inedible food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Liz's sister is a bitch, chocolate cake is made, the boys climb trees, and pizza is delivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self, do NOT try to work with your editor at midnight when she's tired and crabby. You wind up deleting a LOT, then when she gets up the next morning. She asks you why so much is missing.  
> That would be why this chapter took so long.  
> W.D., I love you to pieces, but next time, just tell me you just want to sleep. :)
> 
> Also, please ignore any grammar errors, this didn't go through a third edit.

They took Dean in to the local Wellington hospital to make sure there was no internal damage from the blunt force trauma (and for Liz to introduce all four of her Goddess sisters, all of whom were working there thanks to a little push from Martin). They ran a myriad of tests on Dean, and by the end of it he felt like a lab experiment. On a positive note, Aidan had only left his side when they did the X-rays.

“The doctor says the X-rays and ultrasounds both came back good. We're still waiting on the CAT scan, but it looks like you avoided major damage. The doctor wants to keep you for the night for observation, though.” The nurse, a woman barely out of her twenties, said to Dean. She turned to the crowd of Gods around his bed. "He needs rest, mostly."

“Aceso, Marie” Liz sighed. “You recommend rest for everyone.”

“Would you like me to explain how rest reserves the energy in the body to let it heal itself?” Marie snapped at her Godly sister. “You’re not the only one who studies.”

Liz’s features softened. “Bad day?”

“Terrible,” Marie’s shoulders sagged. “As if the usual wasn’t bad enough, a small group of Americans are here, one of the boys fell down a flight of stairs and isn’t doing well. His family is driving me nuts for updates.” Marie turned back to Dean. “I’ll be back with some morphine to kill that pain. Don’t fight the sleep, okay?” She turned and left.

Aidan, who was sitting in a chair next to Dean’s bed and had a foot propped up on a stool, squeezed Dean’s hand. “See, you’re okay. They’re going to give you something to make you sleep.”

“Ugh,” Dean answered. “Sleep sounds good.” His body had gotten to the point where it felt like he was one giant bruise, and he’d given up trying to block the pain out. He squeezed Aidan’s hand back. “Stay?”

“Wild Orcs couldn’t make me leave,” Aidan promised, smiling. Without looking away from Dean, Aidan asked "Hey, Liz, before you go, you still have those meds I gave you?”

Liz gave Aidan a small smile and pulled them out of her pocket. “Ankle finally got to you?”

"That and they knock me out. I don’t think I’m gonna sleep, otherwise.” Aidan admitted. He pulled the cap open and took one of the pills, using the water Marie had left behind.

“Get some rest. Marie’s right about that, you know.” Liz gave them a tight smile as Marie re-entered the room, and hooked up Dean’s IV to a bag of something, probably morphine. When she left, Liz followed her sister out, asking about Dean’s test results.

Within ten minutes, Dean’s eyes fluttered closed. Richard harassed the nurses into handing over a couple of spare blankets, one of which went over Aidan and the other Richard kept aside for himself. “I’ll keep an eye on them, if you want to go back to the studio.” He nodded at the rest of the Gods. “Peter and Fran will want an update.”

"Spectacular," Aidan groaned, tugging his blanket up to keep him warm. Why did they make those hospitals so cold? “You don't have to stay.”

“And if I’d been at the trailer, Dean likely wouldn’t have gotten shot.” Richard argued. “I’m staying, if that’s all right with the rest of you.”

“That is the best course of action,” Ian stood and cracked his back. “I trust you.”

Mark and Graham glanced at each other, and James’s eyes went wide. Ian’s trust in Richard was only surpassed by his trust in their little circle. It was astounding, the level of faith he was putting in Richard. Zeus rarely trusted outsiders with something as precious to him as the two boys had become.

Simon didn’t seem fazed. “Rich, d’you want a book, or something? I can pick something up for you before we head back.”

“Please, I’d appreciate it.” Richard gave them a small smile. “Before you go, though, we still have one more thing to discuss.” He smirked at all of them. “Dean still needs cooking lessons when he recovers.”

Silence reigned as the seconds ticked by. “Well,” James made a face. “Ian doesn’t have the patience, Simon’s more likely to teach him how to make wine instead of food, and most of the rest of us don’t want to. Hm… Graham! Graham, you used to take on apprentices all the time! And you love all the little humans. You can do it!”

“That was three thousand years ago, when I had an apprentice last! And it was Dolos!” Graham protested.

Mark raised his hand. “I second the motion.”

“All in favor?” Ian asked calmly. All the Gods but Graham raised their hand. “All against?” Graham raised his hand, followed by Aidan, who was starting to feel the effects of the medication. “Looks like we have it settled, then.”

“You lot just voted for it because you didn’t want to teach them…” Graham grumbled.

“Bingo,” Richard grinned. He bade the rest of them goodbye, though Simon returned ten minutes later with an armful of books from the gift shop. When Richard raised an eyebrow, Simon shrugged and reminded him that he was the God of Distractions.

It was another half an hour before Aidan finally started to succumb to the effects of the medicine, though he hadn’t let go of Dean’s hand. He slowly encroached on Dean's bed, first just his head, then Dean rolled over, taking Aidan's hand with him. Aidan followed, sliding his trainers off and climbing onto Dean's bed. He eventually wound up spooning Dean, careful of all the wires. Dean, now well under the effects of the morphine, smiled slightly in his sleep.

Richard made sure the two of them were well-covered by the blankets and settled in for a long day.

 

*************************************

 

Graham was fairly certain that he’d never get all the flour out of his shirt.

Damn it, he LIKED that shirt.

Worst of all, how did those idiots even manage to get flour on HIM? He’d done his best to stay far enough away from them after the lasagna incident of last Tuesday. He’d lost a pair of shoes to marinara sauce that time. Thank the Gods that Richard had decided to leave halfway through the boys' lesson today. He'd laughed pretty hard when the terrible two had ruined Graham's shoes, Graham didn't want to think about the teasing Richard would give him for this.

Right now, Dean and Aidan were both crouched in front of Graham’s oven, staring at the cake pan through the glass. Dean was covered in flour from the waist up and Aidan had streaks of chocolate on his forehead from when he’d brushed hair out of his eyes.

“It still looks lumpy. I thought you said that would come out when it baked.” Dean scowled. Two weeks out of hospital, a great deal of pampering from Aidan, and a bit of magic from Martin and he was feeling fairly well. The same couldn't be said for their cake.

When the Gods had decided that Dean needed lessons, Aidan volunteered for them, too. Hell with it, he spent most of his time at Dean's, anyway. “Maybe it needs more time.” He shrugged.

“The timer has a minute and a half left on it. How are the lumps supposed to come out in a minute and a half?” Dean gestured to the oven.

“I don’t know,” Aidan shook his head, curls bouncing. “I’ve seen biscuits turn brown in a minute and a half. If they can do that, maybe the lumps can go away in a minute and a half.”

Lumps in cake didn’t come out in a minute and a half. Graham shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Whatever they’d done to this cake, it was probably going to be inedible. How could you mess up chocolate cake? Granted, he probably should have checked the batter when they’d said they were done mixing it. But really, they were fully grown adults. How could they not know how to make chocolate cake?

The timer went off, and Graham had to remind Dean to use the potholders to take the cake pan out –why did they never think of that? The food was hot, that meant the pan was hot!

“Okay, don’t drop it, mate.” Aidan backed away as Dean pulled the cake out of the oven and sit it on the burners.

The two lads stared down at the cake. Or what was supposed to be cake. It was still lumpy, it looked a little dry on one end, and the other end looked fine until Graham took a toothpick and poked the cake with it. The toothpick came out covered in batter from the section that looked okay. Raw. Another toothpick came out clean at the dry end. “Well, boys, are either of you willing to eat it?”

“What’s the lumps? Chocolate?” Aidan asked, looking over the cake.

“No, you melted the chocolate pretty well. Almost burned it. I’d say that’s flour.” Graham took another toothpick and jabbed at a lump. Sure enough, it was white and powdery. “Mystery solved.”

“Maybe that section’s safe?” Dean poked at the dry part with a fork. “What do you think?” Aidan gave Dean a panicked look and shook his head.

“Go ahead and try,” Graham made a sweeping motion with his arm. Best way to learn is to see how badly you failed.

Dean took a piece of cake with the fork and popped it into his mouth. “Oh, God.” He reached over and snatched up a paper towel and spat the cake into it. “That’s not food. Ugh. Don’t eat that.” He looked at Graham. “I need a beer. Please. Get that taste out of my mouth.”

“You’ll have juice, it’s not even 6pm. Beer at this hour.” Graham shook his head and went about pouring juice for Dean. Dean downed the glass in one go.

“I don’t get it,” Aidan scowled at the… thing in the cake pan. “We followed your directions!”

“Most of them, yes.” Graham grinned as he shoved the two of them aside and began to extricate the mess from the pan and into the trash. “First of all, Dean wound up with more of the dry ingredients on him and me than he did in the bowl, I think. Secondly, you scorched the chocolate. I told you to put it in a saucepan inside another saucepan filled with water. That’s how you avoid scorching it.”

“I thought you were being sarcastic,” Aidan muttered.

“Now you know I wasn’t. Those lumps are because you didn’t finish mixing wet and dry. You didn’t watch where you put the cake in the oven and it cooked unevenly. You had it too close to the oven on one side. You got impatient. Now, there’s no cake.” Graham laughed. “What did you learn?”

Dean cocked his head to one side. “Let you make the cake?”

Graham laughed again. “No… patience. You’ve got to work on patience. That and not making a mess. Aidan, your turn to clean up. We’ll try something less complicated next time. Boiling eggs should be good.”

“Bet he couldn’t do any better,” Aidan mumbled as he put the pan in the sink and started to scrub. Dean stifled a laugh.

Graham raised an eyebrow at that. He couldn’t do any better, hm? He wandered over to his storage closet and retrieved a Tupperware container. As Aidan scrubbed and Dean watched, Graham collected the container, a plastic sheet, a set of tools, and a strange looking color kit before sitting down at the small dining area. He took the plastic and set it down on the table, then got to work.

Less than a minute later, the still dirty cake pan was abandoned in pursuit of more interesting things. More interesting meaning Graham. As the two young men watched, Graham took the wet clay he’d pulled from the closet and had transformed it. He first rolled and kneaded the stuff, getting a feel for it, then molded it into two general forms. He used a small knife to subtract clay to give definition, then an even smaller knife to add detail. A brush was used to add more depth and detail. Then, Graham took the color kit and dipped another brush into it, adding what looked like dye to the clay. By the end, he had a spectacularly detailed kitten with white-dyed fur and a black spot on the figure’s head and ankle and an intricate hummingbird in beautiful shades of blue and green.

It had taken him five minutes, maybe less.

“Now, watch this.” Graham grinned at them. He stood and opened the oven door, then closed it again. He placed a hand on the closed door and fire spewed to life in the oven, so hot Aidan and Dean could feel it. Then, the oven made an odd ‘thump’. Twice. “They’re done.” Graham gave the boys a gentle smile. “Would you like to see?”

“Sure,” Aidan shrugged.

Dean nodded. “I didn’t know you could make clay figures.”

“I can’t,” Graham smiled. He opened the oven door…. A blur of blue and green whizzed out of the oven, speeding past Graham. The blur flitted around the small room until it apparently sniffed out Dean’s juice cup and fluttered down to it, investigating the sweet smell. A blue and green hummingbird. Graham reached into the oven and pulled out the second item, a fuzzy white kitten with a black spot on his forehead and one foot. The kitten was looking at the hummingbird with interest, fighting with Graham’s arms to catch the creature that intrigued it so. It finally gave up and mewed pathetically at the bird.

“Well, boys, I’d say that’s better than a chocolate cake, wouldn’t you?” Graham grinned.

“Holy… fuck…” Aidan gasped. “They’re… they’re…”

“Alive, yes.” Graham nodded. “I made myself a miniature circus when I was a child. Tiny lions and zebras and elephants. I can make anything I want come to life, given enough clay and a large enough kiln. Let’s get something for these little guys, everything comes to life hungry. More juice and a saucer of milk are in order, I think.”

Dean and Aidan almost fell over each other to get the food for the creatures. They fed the hummingbird and kitten, watching in awe. “Are they real?” Dean asked as he stroked the kitten.

“Very real. They’ll live a normal lifespan. I made the hummingbird an adult, so he’ll be gone sooner than the full lifespan. This little guy should have a good fifteen years.” Graham grinned down at the kitten.” I wonder if Jimmy’s girls would like him. I think I’ll call him… Dapple. “

“You can make… anything? Like, dinosaurs and stuff?” Dean asked.

“You mean Nessie? She’s a plesiosaur. She’s also not the only one, I made three for that loch. I think there’s around six, now, total. The loch’s got an outlet to the sea, so they go in and out. I put them there… oh, a hundred years ago. They live a long time.”

Dean laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

Graham shook his head. “Nope. Granted, they were smaller when they were infants. I didn’t quite realize how big they were going to get. Took us forever to make a kiln large enough, too.”

Aidan lifted the kitten and cuddled it. “So… you could make the perfect woman.”

“Ah, no. There’s no such thing. Sorry. I stopped making people centuries ago, too.” Graham shook his head and opened the door to his trailer. “Come on, help me get the little bird out. He needs freedom.”

They finally managed to shoo the bird out and into the wide world. The kitten cried miserably that his playtoy was gone until Dean produced a shoelace and dangled it in front of the creature. It happily decided the shoelace was much better.

“That has to be awesome,” Dean mumbled as he and Aidan played with the kitten.

Graham nodded. “Honor thinks so. She’s got every animal she could ask for, including the pony. All it cost me was some clay.”

 

*****************

 

Over the past two weeks, Aidan wouldn’t leave Dean’s side unless absolutely necessary. He'd even located Dean's camping gear and pulled the sleeping bags out, setting them on up on the bed so the two could share. When Richard, who had taken to sleeping on Dean's couch, had asked them why they didn't just sleep together under the blankets like normal people, both young men and looked extremely nervous and stuttered out excuses. Richard thought they were being ridiculous with each other. The last time they did it, he'd shaken his head and decided they'd work it out eventually.

An indirect result of Richard’s hovering meant the Englishman spent more time talking to the two youngsters, and it was actually making their connection stronger. It was showing up on the screen, too. Peter had even asked the them if he should do some re-shoots of older scenes, just to pick up that chemistry.

“Explain this to me one more time,” Richard nudged Martin one day as they took a break from filming. “Graham and Jimmy keep saying that Dean can’t be touched by the Fates, so Hephaestus can’t kill him.”

“The Moirai. Yeah. They’re… they just ARE.  James and Ian have a pretty good handle on what they can do, though. Supposedly, they’re daughters of the Goddess Nyx, but I’ve never actually seen them.” Martin explained.

“Never?”

Martin shook his head. “Not a once. They... supposedly they work independently of anything else. There’s so many stories, I don’t know which ones are true.” He held up three fingers. “I DO know that they work in three. Always three.There’s three of them: Clotho who determines, Lachesis who allows, and Atropos who… well, let’s just say she’s the one you don’t want to meet.”

“Three of them, that’s interesting. Some of the old Celtics I knew worked in threes.” Richard nodded.

“The three doesn’t stop with that. There’s also a three-count. A God who’s out for someone can try to kill them three times. They get three tries, and that’s it. From what I got from Jimmy, the person is evading the Fates – they evade the one who determined who they will be, Clotho; then they evade the one who chooses the lifespan and what they’ll do with that life, Lachesis; and then they evade… Atropos.“ Martin shivered a bit.

"Dean evaded all three attempts, including the one that only a miracle could stop: Atropos. Something made him tie that shirt around his waist, right where the bullet went. I’ve never seen him wear that shirt that way. Something kept his life thread from being cut." Martin made a slash motion with his hands. "I mean, Fran’s spell would have covered his entire body, but that shirt was RIGHT where the bullet went, according to Simon. I don’t half count that as chance."

“You’re sure about the immunity thing?” Richard asked.

“I’m more sure about that than I am what the Moirai are,” Martin spared him an annoyed glance. “I’ve seen it, many times. I’ll bet Poseidon could throw a tidal wave at Dean, and Dean would shake it off. It’s why a lot of the nastier Gods sent monsters to do their dirty work, it was an easy way around that rule. Granted, no more monsters means no more assassins, so yeah. It works the other way, too, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Martin took a deep breath a let it out. “If a God tries to save someone three times and the mortal doesn’t heed their warning or change…” Martin’s voice cracked a bit. “They die. Very soon after. Usually before the sun sets after the third try. I’ve seen that one, too. Firsthand. Patroclus at Troy.” He looked very sad, very un-Martin-like. “Nothing can save them when that happens.”

“It bothers you,” Richard frowned.

“Not all the stories are correct, you know. Things get… retranslated over time. Retold. Stories get shifted. History isn’t always accurate, stories get rewritten to better suit the ideals of later times, I’m sure you’re aware of that."

Richard nodded. “I’m still trying to figure out where they came up with Lancelot."

“You see my point, though. And those stories have had less time to get corrupted. Most sources have the wrong person listed as Patroclus’s father.” Martin looked down at the ground.

Richard was quiet for a minute, leaning against the wall. “He was yours.” Martin nodded. “But then, he came back, was reincarnated, right?”

Martin shook his head. “Not all of our children are Gods. Most of them are...were mortal. Patroclus was mortal. He had one chance. And he just didn’t listen. I tried so hard to stop him and he just didn’t listen. He was one of my favorites, you know. Sometimes, if they do well, a mortal child could pick up some powers, become a demigod. Or, they could be bestowed with a golden apple that gives immortality: only one grows every five centuries, but they never go bad. Or they could do both, pick up some powers AND become immortal, that would make them a full God. Zeus and the other Gods could gift Godship, but it takes a lot of a power and a source for the powers. Both were very rare, but I was hoping.” Martin ducked his head, staring at the ground.

Richard pretended he didn’t see Martin’s tears. “You Greeks are more powerful than me, I thought you could turn someone into a God…”

“We had limitations, even at our height.” Martin confirmed. He lifted his head, Richard could see red-stained eyes. “That’s why I don’t want to know if the Moirai are real, I don’t want to think anyone could be that cruel. I’d like to think that they’re just an explanation for the three-times rule. And I never want to meet them, if they are real. If I did meet them, we’d probably find out whether or not they’re killable.” He sniffled a bit. “Dean… Dean actually looks a lot like Patroclus did, it’s the dimples, I think. Patroclus smiled more, though. Did more things without thinking, acted out more. Laughed out loud a lot more. Dean laughs too quietly.”

“You mean Patroclus acted more like Aidan.” Richard supplied.

“I suppose so,” Martin shrugged.

“Is that why Peter picked them?”

“Oh, no.” Martin shook his head. “No. It’s been too long, I think I’m the only one who remembers Patroclus well enough. Even then, the memory’s faded quite a bit. For all I know, I could have it totally wrong. Just applying things to a shadow of a memory.”

He stood up straight, pretended he had an itch in his eye and wiped his tears with his sleeve when he thought Richard wasn’t looking. He took a number of breaths, calming himself down. Then, finally, he spoke again, all semblance of sadness gone from his voice. “Speaking of the terrible two, it’s about time we find something new to give them hell over. Think Peter’ll let me sit higher than them and throw things at them during the tree scenes? I could find some walnuts somewhere.” Martin rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Come on, then. Let’s go find Peter. I think my kids are with him and James, anyway.”

Richard shook his head as he followed. The Greeks were apparently very, very good at denial. It explained why they were such talented actors, they’d had a lot of practice in the field, it seemed.

 

***************************

 

“Absolutely not,” Andy shook his head.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s going to kill us. I know it won’t kill me!” Dean argued. Aidan nodded in agreement.

"You two have a death wish,” Andy groaned.

“But the stunties get to do it,” Aidan argued.

“Just please, let us do one take. One take and we’ll get back down and we’ll never ask you again.” Dean begged.

Andy heaved a great sigh, looked at the hydraulic trees, and then back at the two young guns in front of him. Aidan was a bad influence on Dean, he was sure of that. Dean probably wouldn’t have gotten into half the trouble he did if Aidan hadn’t come up with the random ideas. Like this one. They hired the stunt doubles for a reason; to keep the actors safe. Dean and Aidan apparently had issues with being safe, as proved by the current request.

“They’re not going to shut up until you let them do it,” Richard said from his chair, trying to hide a grin. “And trust me, they are experts at not shutting up. They have it down to a science.”

“Yeah, we really do.” Aidan nodded.

“What he said,” Dean agreed.

“They could get into worse. And, remember, we have medics on standby.” Richard pointed at the emergency crew who was off to the side.

“Richard has a point,” Ian agreed.

“See, even the wizard is okay with it!” Aidan argued.

Ian grinned and looked over at the hydraulic trees. “How far up were you two planning to go on this adventure? If you go up too high, there won’t be anything for you to grab onto. About three-quarters of the way should be good, don’t you think so, Andy?”

Andy grabbed at his hair as if to pull it out, he just wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, three-quarters up and if either of you get hurt I will… I will....I’ll ban all sweets from the set for a week.” Aidan wilted a bit at that, but still merrily tugged Dean in the direction of the trees. The two of them pulled themselves into the tree and situated themselves on the branches. Andy called for the cameras to roll, and the trees shook under the pressure of imaginary Wargs. Andy allowed himself a bit of a grin before radioing the technicians to turn the trees up all the way. If the two of them were going to give him hell, he was going to make them regret it.

The trees bucked to and fro, jostling the contents and nearly throwing both Dean and Aidan to the mats below. Aidan hung on for dear life, still grinning like a fool, but Dean slipped and went backwards as the tree went out from under him. Just as Dean was grabbing at the branch to catch himself, the tree rushed back, almost knocking the wind out of him. He let out a very loud and very girly shriek.

From the floor, the rest of the cast could hardly contain their laughter. Stephen had his mobile out and was filming, while Adam and Mark couldn’t breathe from laughing. Andy looked on in glee until Fran, who’d stopped by as the boys were climbing the trees, glared at him. Even Graham and Richard couldn’t suppress their laughter, and Ken flashed a small smile. Martin grinned like a maniac. “They’re supposed to be my dear sister’s knights in shining armor. These two idiots, stuck up a tree and screaming like girls.”

Aidan and Dean never asked to do what the stunties were doing. Ever again.

 

**********************

 

Several days later, Aidan and Dean were holed up in Ian’s trailer, listening to yet another Greek tale that Dean was sure had been elaborated on. Between Graham’s cooking lesson and subsequent weapons lesson as a reward for making mostly-edible shepherd’s, pie and Ian’s monotone voice as he went on and on about the past, Aidan had drifted off into dreamland, one arm wrapped up in Dean’s and his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean was quite content to leave him that way.

“Ian, can you explain something to me?” Dean asked.

Ian paused in his litany. He was just getting to the good part. Patience is a virtue, especially with these two, he reminded himself. “What is it?”

“I was doing some research, and all of your kids, Zeus’s kids-“

“I am Zeus. I have always been Zeus, and I will always be Zeus.” Ian corrected. “Continue.”

“Sorry. I sort of equated you with the Almighty Johnsons type of thing for a second there.” Dean apologized. “Anyway, all your Greek God kids, children, progeny, that’s it, progeny. All your progeny that you spend time with – Apollo, Dionysus, Hermes, and even Athena, I noticed that they weren’t… uh… conceived with your wife, Hera. But Hephaestus and Ares were, and you said those were ones that weren’t on your side. Why?”

Ian chuckled. “You’re missing a few, but that isn’t the point. I was wondering when you’d notice that. Hera and I… we didn’t always get on very well. I was very powerful, and very foolish. Power got to my head, and I found I could essentially have anyone I wanted. Every single incarnation for several hundred years, I cheated on Hera. It made her angry, turned her bitter. By the time Hercules was born, she was so very, very angry. Furious. She tried to prevent the birth, but it didn’t work. Then, Athena stole him from his crib and his mortal mother, and gave Hera a sob story about him being an orphan. Athena was always so protective of her younger brothers. She would tear the world apart to protect her siblings, you know. That’s why they adore her so much.

“Athena got Hera to care for Hercules for a short time, but Hera realized she’d been tricked. Athena took him back to the mortals and hid him, but Hera… Hera hated Hercules. He wasn’t the first of my, pardon the phrase, bastard children Hera tried to kill, she tried to kill Dionysus as well, twice actually. Athena saved Dionysus, too, by the way. But her hatred of Hercules was far stronger than any I’d seen before. Time and time again, she tried. And failed. She didn’t even give up when the rule of Three went into effect, she was so angry. By the time he was an adult, she did everything she could to destroy him. She drove him mad several times. She was cruel, plain and simple.

“Athena hated it. She finally took it upon herself to confront Hera. It… didn’t turn out so well. Hera is more powerful than Athena. At that point, I found myself having to choose a side. Hera was my wife, and mother of several of my children, but she was also driven quite insane. She hated me, through and through. Apollo, Artemis, Athena, Dionysus, Hermes, Hercules, they didn’t even hate her for what she had done. Most of them pitied her for her insanity. I stepped in and saved Athena from Hera’s wrath. Hera turned my other children against me, telling them of how I’d been unfaithful. I suppose that Hera’s anger is my own fault, but she has never once given up on it. We Greeks split into two factions, long after Rome was on the rise. Some sided with me, Iapetus and his children because Hercules had helped them – don’t believe the story about him tricking Atlas, he built the Towers and freed Atlas – others for their own reasons. But all of Hera’s children sided with her. Numerous others did, as well.

“For the most part, the factions still stand. It isn’t by intent, but we are... slow to change. Hera will never forgive me; she tries to make my life hell in every life. That helps renew the factions. She’s killed quite a few of my children and other Gods, putting them back into the cycle to be reborn. She has even killed my mortal children, many times in many lives. All the ones my immortal children couldn’t save. Right now, I believe she’s in an asylum in America, and will never be released. She killed Artemis around twenty-five years ago, when the girl was just a teenager, and all of her friends. Mass murder. Artemis was reborn of course, but those poor mortals, their lives were over. Now, Aphrodite has taken up the charge, she usually does when Hera is either early or late in her life or otherwise incapacitated. Odd thing is, Aphrodite was the result of another dalliance of mine, but she has always sided with Hera. Go figure.”

When Ian finished his story, Dean was stunned. “All of this because of Hercules?”

“Hercules was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It is my fault, I will admit that. I made many mistakes. None of us are perfect, even Hermes and Athena have their mistakes, and they could be cruel sometimes. Also, it may not have helped that I pulled some strings and made Hercules a God as well. Not an easy thing to do, but he had earned it.” Ian acknowledged.

“But you’re, ah, gay now. I mean, if you’ve always been Zeus… how did you even have children if you were gay?” Dean looked confused.

“You must remember, the Greeks didn’t have the… reservations about men sleeping together - that popped up later. Most of those dalliances weren’t recorded because, well, there weren’t any children, obviously. But they did occur; I didn’t limit myself to one gender. If you haven’t noticed, the main woman in my lives detests me and eternally tortures me by murdering my family and friends. I swore off women about two hundred years ago. It’s safer that way. Never been happier, actually. You must remember, like mortals, we are not stagnant beings. It just takes longer for us to change and grow.”

“That’s… insane. All of it.” Gods and Politics. Who knew? Looks like Death and Taxes weren’t the only unavoidable things in life. “Hey, you said Hercules was a God? Where is he?”

“We made him a God, using the Golden Apple he 'stole' from the Garden. He was mortal, with powers, to begin with. This most recent time, well… You’ve met him. Worked with him, even. We thought putting him out in the open was… humorous.” Ian grinned. “And, before you ask, Artemis is in an acting school in France right now.”

“Wait, you don’t mean…”

“Hercules is Kevin Sorbo? Of course that’s who I mean. He refused to let anyone else portray him. Stubborn child.” Ian chuckled.

“Any others I should know about?" Dean asked.

Ian leaned back in his chair. “You’ve met Hyperion, through Skype when Peter was going over some of the scripts. He’s my old friend Christopher Lee. Hades is seven and in Australia at the moment. Rhea… you’ve heard about her. She’s Jed’s mother. Why do you think Peter loves to put Jed in his movies?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Oh, Jed’s mortal. No clue about it all. Thinks we’re just all old family friends. Don’t ruin it for him.” Ian insisted.

“The way you people keep a secret? He’s probably known since he was ten.” Dean laughed.

Ian looked thoughtful. “You’re probably right…”

 

****************************

 

Graham stood in the doorway of Dean’s trailer. “You’re all right with this?”

Dean wanted to say ‘no’. He wanted to tell every single God that was in his trailer, and they ALL were in his trailer, to go fuck themselves and he wasn’t going to play bait anymore. Especially not when there was another homicidal God out to get them. It didn’t matter that he was supposedly immune, Aidan wasn’t, and they were risking both of them with this. No wonder Aidan had wanted to back out of it ages ago. Granted, Aidan had a different issue, but still, this shit was seriously scary when they came down to it. Instead, he looked Graham in the eye and said, “Yeah, sure.” Damn Kiwi instincts.

Peter handed Dean his mobile. “Make the call.”

The younger Kiwi took a deep breath and punched the autodial on his mobile. Yes, number had its’ own autodial. “Hello? Hi, it’s Dean O’Gorman again. Can I have the usual mushroom and olives, along with two double pepperoni and a pineapple? Yeah, thanks.” He was shaking so badly he nearly dropped the phone after hanging up. “I am never eating pizza again.”

Aidan shifted nervously on the couch. They’d tried to make him leave, but short of carrying him out – which Graham did try before Aidan kicked him, what was it with the Irishman kicking the Scotsman – he wasn’t going anywhere. This was his best friend, he was not going to abandon Dean now. “How long does it normally take?”

“About thirty-five minutes, on average. Sometimes longer. Think they’ll send Hephaestus?” Dean looked at the Gods in his trailer.

“No doubt he’ll volunteer. Some Gods press things, even when they’ve hit the three attempts. He’s one of them. He learned it from Hera.” Mark nodded.

The wait was an anxious one. Trying to keep calm, Liz broke out a deck of cards and challenged them to a quick card game, which Aidan wisely stayed away from. After that, Martin challenged them all to a word game where they had to say the first thing that came to their mind after the last person spoke – which ended quickly after most of them wound up with their minds in the gutter.

Approximately ten minutes before the pizzas were due to arrive, Richard left the trailer to wait for Hephaestus outside, he was the only one they were certain Hephaestus wouldn’t know about. Graham and Simon took up positions inside Aidan’s trailer, situated right next to Dean’s. James and Fran worried over Aidan, making sure he was wearing at least three articles of clothing Fran had enchanted, including a Guinness hat she enchanted right there in the trailer while waiting. Fran and Peter then insisted on Aidan staying behind them the entire time, much to the Irishman’s chagrin. Liz checked her emergency kit one last time. Dean put on his (Aidan had given up on getting it back) red plaid shirt, just for good luck.

They all still jumped when a knock came at the door.

Dean took a deep breath and opened the door while everyone moved out of sight. The young man staring up at him was, indeed, his usual pizza delivery guy. Hephaestus, supposedly. He looked barely out of his teenage years, with longish blonde hair and in need of a shave. And the guy could act. He handed over the pizzas like he’d never shot Dean, checking the money Dean handed him and stuffing it into his pocket as though he’d never tried to kill the actor.

He didn’t stand a chance when Richard grabbed him from behind.

Richard pinned the young man’s arms down and dragged him backwards, with Graham and Simon at his side in moments. Graham grabbed the young man’s legs and Simon pulled out his tablet to check the picture and make sure it was the same person who’d tried to take Dean’s life. A quick nod from Simon, and Richard and Graham lugged the screaming young man inside Dean’s trailer.

The delivery boy shouted obscenities at the lot of them, which made Aidan shout even more obscenities back at him from his protected place behind Peter and Fran, after all, this was the person who’d tried to kill his best friend. James conjured a piece of rope out and a very sturdy metal chair from nowhere and helped Richard and Graham secure the young man to the hard-backed chair, while Mark tied a strip of fabric around the young man’s mouth.

During all of this Dean leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths. He wasn’t dead. They’d gotten the guy.

Martin made his way to the Kiwi and gave him a light hug. “It’s okay, he’s not going to hurt you again.” Martin said in soothing tone. With the same soothing tone, Martin continued. “Do you want to punch him a few times, just for good measure? Before we start, of course. I think I speak for all of us here when I say you have the right to it.”

Dean shivered a bit. That tone combined with those words was a little… unnerving. Especially since they came from Martin. “I think I’ll leave that to you.”

After they secured the delivery boy to the chair, Richard headed to Dean. “Not hurt, are you? No injuries, right?” He started to pat at the Kiwi’s clothes to make sure.

“I’m fine, thank you. Both of you.” Dean was grateful that Martin and Richard worried about him, Richard a little more obnoxiously, but it was appreciated all the same. “I think I’d better go to Aidan.” Richard nodded, and Dean moved to take his place next to Aidan, behind the protective wall of Peter and Fran and in front of the couch. As soon as the Irishman was within reach, Dean grabbed onto Aidan’s hand and didn’t let go. They stood there, hand in hand, not saying a world and watching the captive.

Tied to the chair, the young man’s chin was grabbed and pulled up by Mark, forcing him to stare into his eyes. “You listen here, child. You shot one of our boys, we don’t take too kindly to that. I am Gelos, as I am sure you know. And if you know your history, you know I can give joy… or take it.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know I can take your sanity and toss it out the window and you’ll be humming to yourself in a padded room for the rest of this life and the next. Now, I’m sure you don’t want that, do you, child?"

Aidan and Dean glanced at each other. This version of Mark was… frightening. His eyes held that kaleidoscope quality, but unlike when he was telling funny stories, they held no warmth, no life. Aidan would later describe it as a stained-glass window in an abandoned church. Either way, it wasn’t something they were bound to forget any time soon.

It was the first time they’d seen any of the Gods using their powers in anger.

No wonder the world had worshiped and been terrified of them.

The young man trapped in the chair shook his head violently. “Good. Then you’ll speak only when asked a question. Oh, and I wouldn’t bother to try your fire here, Hecate fireproofed all the trailers after that stunt with the towel closet. Which burnt my lungs from smoke inhalation, just a bit. Just so you know, you’re already on my shit list.” Mark turned to the rest of them and nodded. His eyes didn’t change back.

James padded the young man down, removing everything from his pockets. A wallet, a penknife, Dean’s money, car keys, an obnoxiously large lighter, a small bottle, and a mobile phone were set on Dean’s dining table. Then, instead of untying the gag, James took out his own favourite carving knife and cut the fabric, right next to the young man’s cheek. James didn’t seem to notice the tiny cut it made on their captive’s face.

Martin was already going through the wallet. “Tim Casey. Dull name.” He pulled the ID out and handed it around to everyone to take a look.

“I see,” Peter moved from his spot in front of their boys; the empty spot was quickly taken up by Richard. “Tim. Tell me, Tim, who are you?”

The young man looked at them with wide eyes. “I’m Tim, you saw the ID.”

“That wasn’t the question.” Peter leaned down, and suddenly the pressure increased to the point where Dean had to swallow to pop his ears. “Who. Are. You.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I deliver pizzas!”

“And shoot people, apparently.” Richard crossed his arms and glared.

“I… someone paid me to do it! I swear!”Tim cried out. Martin snorted in derision.

Ian frowned. “Not a good idea to lie to Apollo, he can tell when you’re doing it. Let’s try this again. If you lie this time, Iapetus and Prometheus may take offense to it.” Graham cracked his knuckles. “And Hecate won’t be too happy, either.” Fran narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“You people are crazy!”Tim shouted.

“Let me try,” Graham gently pushed Peter aside. “Shall we play a game?” He opened a hand and flames came forth, not the nice kind that he used to light up the dark space behind Beorn’s hut, either. “Hecate fire-proofed us and the trailer. She didn’t fireproof you. Let’s play witch hunt. I’m sure you remember those. If you burn, you’re mortal. If not, you’re a witch. One way, you die, the other, well, we’ll see how that goes.” He brought his hand in front of Tim’s eyes and let him stare at the flames before pressing his burning hand into the pizza uniform’s shirt.

At the last second, Tim squinted his eyes shut. The flames spread over him and fanned out before dying. There wasn’t a single burn on the pizza delivery boy’s body, not even a singe on his clothes.

I thought so,” Ian sighed. “Hephaestus.”

The terror didn’t leave Tim’s - Hephaestus’s eyes, but anger flashed in there, too. “You all think you’re so special! All you want is control over the rest of us! And her… Athena… that little bitch, she’ll help you with it!” Flames began to come from the young God’s hands, put pink light wrapped around them quickly and the fire vanished.

Graham pulled back a fist and slammed it into Hephaestus’s right eye. “Don’t you ever say things like that again! Is that what Aphrodite told you, this time around? Maybe I should do that again and knock some sense into you!”

James grabbed at Graham’s arm and pulled him back. “Prometheus, violence only when needed.” Graham shook him off and scowled. “You’re scaring the boys.” The older man gave Dean and Aidan a glance and saw the two of them staring at him wide-eyed. They’d known he could be violent, but it was a choice, always his choice, to be peaceful.

“I’m sorry, lads. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Graham bowed his head slightly.

“Why not?” Hephaestus spat out. “They don’t know what you can do, do they? They’ve never seen you pull out all the stops! Never seen any of you take down whole armies or make cities fall into the ocean! Never seen Prometheus create toy soldiers whose sole purpose is to die in the name of the Gods, never seen Apollo give a plague to an entire continent. Bet you didn’t know Hermes here doesn’t just do stories, he can move dead spirits from the underworld and back!” Peter looked away at that, and Fran reached over and gripped his hand. “You’re all just using those mortals. Like Zeus used all of us, even you, Hermes, when he made you take dreams to the mortals. Just playing happy-go-lucky until you don’t need them anymore. Then you’ll get rid of them. As soon as Athena shows up, you’ll dump them like you've done to all the others."

Ian stood, his back rigid and eyes shining with silver light. “I have never used you. You all have free will, and I merely try to contain the damage! Those two, those mortals you tried to kill, they are more precious to me than you are, and you are my own flesh and blood! They will choose their own path freely, but we will protect them until the day they draw their dying breaths! They are part of my family, now! Far more than you have ever been! The only reason you ever followed me was to further your own agenda!” Outside, the sunny day clouded over and wind and rain suddenly rocked the trailer. Lightning flashed at the windows, again and again like some sort of crazy disco. The windows rattled from the sound of thunder, so loud the two mortals wanted to cover their ears.

“You see?” Hephaestus laughed. “You see what they can do? You see what they are? All three of you little mortals, you’re nothing to them! This isn’t even the worst he can do!”

Richard didn’t have the chance to correct Hephaestus on his existence. Behind him, Dean and Aidan exchanged looks. Dean nodded, and Aidan squeezed his hand harder. It was Aidan that spoke first, quietly. “Yeah, we see what they can do.”

Dean nodded. “And we see why, too.”

They both looked on calmly, as though Zeus had not just opened the skies, as though Graham had not shown them what violence he was capable of, as though Mark had not frightened them. “I think we understand,” Aidan continued. “I know I do. They could do all this all along, they could do worse than this, but they didn’t.”

“They spoiled us. They trusted us.” Dean added. “They could have forced us to do anything they wanted and they didn’t. They asked us instead. They protected us. They would never, ever hurt us. Yeah, they scare me, and probably him.” Dean tilted his head at Aidan. “But so do a lot of things that won’t hurt us.”

“And we know they won’t hurt us. They’ve done everything they can to keep us safe. They’ve given us so many outs that it’s stupid. We made a choice to stick with this. So, I think the answer is ‘fuck you’.” Aidan finished.

The Gods circled Hephaestus, all but Richard, who stayed with the boys. “You have your answer, fire God.” Martin said. “You can’t talk them out of it. You can’t kill them, you’ve tried too many times. You failed.”

“So the question is, what do we do with you?” Fran asked herself. “You’ve attempted murder in this life.”

“And committed atrocities in others,” Mark added.

“We should turn you black and blue and let the crows eat you,” Liz said.

“Wait,” Ian hadn’t dropped the power he was holding. “Wait. I talked to Dean about something yesterday. I think it may be of value. We need to make some calls.”

“Calling people? You’ve all gone soft, you morons.” Hephaestus laughed.

“Shut him up,” Ian ordered. Graham moved to land another punch, this one aimed for the young God’s jaw, but Ian grabbed him. “Not you. Richard, if you would be so kind. I think a Protector God is needed right now. I think this will be very symbolic for what I have planned later.”

Richard looked confused, but stepped forward. “You know, kid, you’re pretty stupid. I’m sorry about this, but I’m going to look after my tribe, and the Dwarves are my tribe. You’re a threat to them.” He pulled back and slammed his fist into Hephaestus’s jaw.

The Fire God passed out from the pain of his jaw breaking.

 

*************

 

Graham and Richard removed the unconscious Hephaestus from the trailer, apologizing to Dean - the best place to hide the psycho was in the darkroom they’d made for him. Dean shrugged it off, their apologies not really necessary. He and Aidan slumped down onto Dean’s couch.

“Well, that’s been a fun day.” Martin’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on the rest of them.

“You do realize you people are fucking SCARY when you’re pissed off, right?” Aidan exclaimed. “I was shaking the whole damn time!”

“Breathe, lad.” James grinned. “It’s over now. I promise we won’t get that scary again unless we have to.”

“Yeah, sure, right. I think once was enough.” Dean nodded.

"You two want something for your nerves?” Liz asked. Both of them shook their heads. They weren’t children, they could handle this.

Ian took a spare chair and sat in front of them, grasping their free hands. “That was… incredibly brave of you two.”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t even know what I was doing for most of it. I was just so pissed off and so scared that I just… reacted.”

“Yeah, talk about a reality check. It’s so easy to forget that you’re… you’re…” Aidan didn’t finish.

“Gods?” Ian supplied.

“Yeah, that.”

“You did well, standing up to Hephaestus. And you were right. We’d never force you to do anything, and we’d never hurt you.” Ian leaned over and squeezed their hands. “Some of us… you remind us of family, long ago.” Martin winced at that. “And others you just drive us so insane that we can’t help but worry about you.”

“What’ll you do with Hephaestus?” Dean asked.

“I have plans for him. Hera will be very, very angry at me. But this can’t continue, I have to send a message. And if I can stop someone else from dying at the same time, then that’s even better. I’ll have to contact some of the others, but I’ll be sure to bring you two in to see when we do it.”

The two young men didn’t say anything. They both nodded, even though neither was sure he wanted to know what was going to happen to the fire God. After an uncomfortable silence, Aidan got up and opened one of the pizza boxes. He was removing a slice when James pulled the food gently away from him.

“Sorry, lad, no.”

“Why not?” Aidan pouted.

James shook his head and dumped the slice back into the pizza box before closing it. “I figured out what was in the bottle. I wondered why he didn’t go after Dean with fire or a weapon… but he did. That bottle had poison in it. I think I know where that poison went.” He removed the boxes from the table. “Looks like it’s leftovers, lads.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Aidan scowled.

“God of Mortality. And I see death all over these. They’re going in the bin.” James looked sad. “Sorry.” He took the boxes outside and headed out into the still-raging storm towards the nearest dumpster. James pretended he didn’t see scorch marks on half the trailers; Ian had probably blown a number of electrical boxes in them.

Ian gave Aidan a pitied look. “I think it’s time we go. Have a good night.” He ushered the remaining Gods out, leaving Aidan and Dean by themselves.

The Gods ran through the rain until they reached the office building where Graham and Richard had taken the fire God. In the dry hallways, Martin couldn’t help but grin. “They did it.”

“Did what?” Simon asked.

“What I foresaw. They became real shield brothers. Two people fighting the same monster, protecting each other.” Martin looked ecstatic. “I love when the good visions pan out. Still going to give them hell, though. That’s my job.”

“You do realize the ‘monster’ was us, right?” Peter asked.

“Nope. Monster was their own fear. You saw it, right? The way they latched onto each other?” Martin grinned.

Ian nodded. “That’s very strong magic, right there. Granted, they’re probably in there freaking out right about now. But they still did it. They stood up to their fears and supported each other, overcoming the obstacle. If Athena doesn’t latch onto them, then I don’t know what else we can do.” Silently, Ian hoped that once the filming was done, the two wouldn’t drift away. From each other or their strange family they’d built.

They would cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, Ian needed to make sure Hephaestus was secure… he had plans for that boy.

 

************************

 

Inside Dean’s trailer, still sitting on the couch where the Gods had left them, Aidan and Dean were remembering to breathe normally again.

“I have never been so fucking scared in my entire life,” Aidan managed to get out.

“I was. When I called the pizza place.”

“Oh, that doesn’t bloody count, it was all part of the same thing.”

“Hey, Aid?”

“What?”

“You can let go of my hand now.” Dean looked down between them. Sure enough, Aidan was still attached to his best friend. The Irishman looked down, then back up.

“Meh, nope.” The brunette leaned over and hugged the blond, knocking Dean backwards and sprawling all over the couch. “Not letting go. It’s been a hell of a day and I still can’t believe we’re not dead.”

“You're impossible, you know that?” Dean gave in and hugged Aidan back, wrapping his arms around the Irishman. He didn’t realize until after he finished that Aidan was still shaking slightly. "We made it through this. I'm alive, you're alive, we're going to be all right."

“I know," Aidan said quietly. He still didn't move, Anything to have someone with him. Aidan knew if he was by himself… reality would hit. If Dean was here, Aidan could pretend, pretend that it was just a scene. An act. As long as we wasn’t alone. "Can I stay the night again?"

"You’ve got to stop the sleepovers. You sleep here more than you do your own trailer.” Dean, despite his words, found himself running his fingers through Aidan's dark hair.

“Only because you put boring movies on,” Aidan argued. “If you didn’t put boring movies on, I wouldn’t fall asleep.”

“I think you sugar-crash, and that’s why you fall asleep. It’s all those sweets.” Dean grinned. They were avoiding the topic, the terror, the Gods. But Aidan was good at avoiding things when he didn’t want to talk about them, and Dean was happy to oblige.

“Sweets are good for me. You’re wrong.” Aidan nodded, still buried in Dean’s arms.

"Come off of it. Get up.” Dean sighed dramatically, but Aidan refused to move. “If you don’t get up, I’ll... I'll do something scary to you.”

“Prove it.”

The Kiwi pulled Aidan up slightly and cupped his face. He bent, ever so slightly, so that their lips were touching.

He half expected Aidan to jump off the couch and run to his own trailer.

He wasn’t expecting Aidan to fucking kiss him BACK. It was just a slight tilt of the Irishman’s head at first, enough to deepen the contact and make the Kiwi’s brain misfire. But when Dean countered by parting his lips slightly, Aidan apparently took that as an invitation. It was very, very clear that Aidan was quite used to being the dominant one in kissing, ironic, given his shyness, but probably stemming from having girlfriends. The Irishman very thoroughly investigated the Kiwi’s mouth, hands moving around Dean’s waist in a way that certainly wasn’t platonic. Not that it mattered, Dean’s hands were already under Aidan’s shirt. By the time they parted, Aidan was straddling Dean’s lap, breathing heavy, with his head buried in Dean’s shoulder.

“This doesn’t mean I’m gay,” Aidan protested while dropping kisses on Dean’s neck and shoulder.

Dean ran his hands through Aidan’s messy curls. “I know.”

“Just making that clear,” Aidan whispered before attacking Dean’s lips again, hot and heavy and chaotic. He wanted to touch every part of Dean at the same time, and so he decided to try. As the Irishman unbuttoned Dean's shirt, his hands wandered everywhere he could reach, driving Dean insane. Dean grabbed onto Aidan’s hips, pulling them closer.

Dean broke off for just a moment, kissing Aidan’s neck and leaving a tiny bite there. “If we keep this up, we’ll wind up in the bedroom.”

Aidan pulled back and stared at Dean. He looked a little nervous, licking his lips in that delicious way he did when he was unsure about something. “Yeah, I’ve, uh, I’ve kissed a guy before, but I haven’t…” He shifted in Dean’s lap, which made Dean very, very happy.

Dean swallowed, trying to keep control. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to.” Dean promised.

Aidan moved forward again, capturing Dean’s lips and making a little noise that Dean assumed was an ‘okay’. Dean moved his hands slowly across Aidan's thighs and towards the zipper, waiting to see if Aidan would stop him. Aidan moaned at the contact.

They were busy until long after the storm had passed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They've caught a fire God, and Ian's making plans...
> 
> I will be out of town until next Tuesday, so I don't know if there will be any updates until then. It's not the internet connection I'm worried about, it's access to my editor. If I can get a hold of her via phone, then a chapter will go up before then.
> 
> Thank you for reading and encouraging me!


	13. Long Live the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fire God must be dealt with... but Ian is nothing if not creative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies with the late update, but I was at DragonCon this past weekend and couldn't update. Yes, I got a hug from Dean O'Gorman. I also got a hug from Sylvester McCoy and the actor who played my favorite Dwarf since I was a kid (Bombur, played by Stephen Hunter... yes, Bombur was my favorite Dwarf. Deal.) During the convention, we learned that Dean and Peter H. will eat Stephen if they have to resort to cannibalism and that Peter H. vomited on Orlando Bloom. I also learned that sticking five males on a stage and telling them to talk will result in stupidity, but that should have been obvious.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Four days passed before anyone brought up Hephaestus again.

During that time, they’d continued on with filming. James’s daughters’ costumes were finally fitted, so it looked like they’d be shooting more Laketown scenes soon. Martin still gave them hell, Ian still relished in telling the young mortals his favorite ancient tales, Graham had given them another mostly disastrous cooking lesson (fish and chips, which would never be the same again), and Richard hovered over them like a watchful parent.

It was Richard that was the problem, really.

Ever since that night, when they’d been so shaken up they’d wound up snogging on Dean’s couch before heading to the bedroom (and Aidan learned a thing or two he hadn’t known before) they had barely had a moment alone to talk about what had happened. Aidan hadn’t run screaming from Dean when he’d awoken in Dean’s bed the next day, and Dean was ecstatic over that. The two tried very hard to spend as much time as possible together. Apparently, everyone was used to them doing that anyway, because not a single comment was made. Not when they sat together at lunch with their knees touching, not when they vanished to try to get some time to talk about what happened that fateful day, and not even when Aidan spent every waking moment in Dean’s trailer.

Unfortunately, Richard refused to let them have any time alone. The moment they vanished, he’d go looking for them like some sort of mama bear looking for her cubs. When they went to Dean’s trailer, he’d follow them and take up residence at the dining table. Richard just wasn’t going to let them out of his sight, that’s all there was to it. They got away with Aidan sleeping on Dean’s shoulder during the movies they watched, but that was simply because it was what he had always done.

So when Martin popped his head into Dean’s trailer and told them to head down to the conference rooms, the younger two of the three Durins jumped up to leave almost immediately.

They met in an unused part of the studio, some section that needed updating and was almost forgotten. There wasn’t even a vending machine nearby. The lights in the corridor still worked, but inside the conference room, no artificial light shone. The room was an interior one, so the only light came from candles that sat on the floor in a circle around the Fire God.

Hephaestus didn’t look well.

They’d apparently kept the pizza boy alive, stashing him away in Dean’s darkroom. Either Liz or Martin had taken care of the broken jaw, as the young man could obviously talk; he wouldn’t be gagged if he couldn’t. Dean figured that they’d patched the jaw up to try to extract some information, as his black eye was still painfully obvious, and he had a few more bruises that nobody owned up to. His clothes and hair were dirty, and he looked very pale. He was visibly shaking as he knelt on the floor, eyes shining with hatred at Ian. The young God’s hands were bound behind him, not with handcuffs or rope but with very familiar pink light that also ran down to the floor, keeping him still. Dean had a feeling that the light was the only reason why the conference room wasn’t on fire.

Ian motioned for everyone to sit in the office chairs they’d dragged into the room. Richard took a seat, Aidan and Dean following, staying close to one another and Richard. All the Gods from the studio there, even the ones in costuming, sets, and security. There was one group, all seated around Ian, who were seated in what looked like chairs from Rivendell. Patrick Stewart was seated next to Ian with a very familiar prop next to him: a white wizard’s staff. An elderly woman with flowing silver hair that neither Dean, Aidan, nor Richard recognized sat on the other side of the lightning God. James sat beside her. Between Ian and the woman were a pair of Australian coins sitting on a small, but elaborate, table.

After everyone was seated Ian, no, this was pure Zeus, began. There was no trace of the friendly old man who’d cried because he had been alone in Bag End. “Hyperion and Hades send their apologies, but neither are capable of travel at the moment.” Zeus nodded at the artifacts. “In their stead, they sent these, to be used for this ceremony today. They should contain the power of their owners. I am aware that we also have a number of Greek Gods that are not here today, and as my powers will destroy any technology, it is not possible to hold a digital conference. I hope that they do not feel slighted by the short notice.”

Most everyone there nodded, understanding the need for expediency. Zeus continued. “We have two problems here today. One is of a rogue God. Hephaestus. He has attempted murder in this life on no less than four occasions. We will not discuss his actions from previous lives, but it is safe to say that has become more than a nuisance. He has become a danger to the mortals in our lives. And what is worse, he is of my. Own. Blood.” Zeus closed his eyes, then shook his head.

“My child. Hephaestus. Boy, it is one thing to kill someone in battle, or kill over revenge, but you have killed innocents far too many times. These are not the ancient days where such behavior was tolerated. At one time, I trusted you. You made the great tools of the Gods; great weapons came from your forge. But this has not happened in centuries. You have not had any use, aside from assisting Hera and Aphrodite in their plans, for hundreds of years.” Zeus looked down at the young man from his seat. He looked very sad. “And it is time I stand up to this. You spoke of control, but I have had none over you, and it is showing. I will make a stand here, today. I will disown you as my child.”

Hephaestus’s eyes went wide and he shook his head violently, tears coming down his cheeks. The rage he’d shown in the trailer and even just a few minutes ago was long gone, replaced by pure terror. The other Gods all looked away, save Richard. The Englishman didn’t understand, why would a simple disownment cause so much reaction from the Fire God? Did Zeus hold that much power over them? The teenager met Richard’s eyes, pleading silently with him.

Zeus continued. “Hephaestus's insanity... Apollo has used his powers to see into the future, and did not see a recovery. Not in this lifetime, nor the next. I have let the boy's insanity go on unchecked for far too long, and Aphrodite, I fear, only encouraged it. The futures Apollo saw, the bloodshed... they leave me with only two choices on this matter. One was to destroy Hephaestus in this life now. However, this only solves the problem for the current life, and I know he would be even more untamable in the next. The second choice solves the second problem. Richard.”

Richard jumped, startled. What had he done? He hadn’t caused any trouble; he didn’t even have any powers left! He was a mere Tribal God, and a very weak one at that! “I’m sorry, I haven’t meant to cause you any trouble-“

“But you have, Anextiomarus. You are a Tribal God, a Protector God. And yet your original tribe is gone, scattered. Your land is no longer what it was. You have hung on by moving, by changing, by taking a name that was remembered, but you can only do this for so long.” Zeus stared the other God down. “Your memories are weakening and your powers are gone. You are fading. You are dying." Richard looked down at his hands, away from Zeus. He'd known something was changing, but he hadn't been able to pin it down. Richard struggled to keep his eyes from welling with tears as Zeus continued. "A hundred years from now, you may not even be a memory. You are a problem.”

“I… I didn’t realize… That isn’t something I can help,” Richard protested, looking back up at Zeus and clenching his fists.

“You are right, you cannot help it. You cannot change it. You cannot fix it. You were not even aware that it could be fixed. But it can.” Zeus stood. “And it will be.”

The ancient King of Olympus circled Hephaestus. “This has been done before, very rarely, but I am quite sure you are now aware of my intent. You have been bound, you cannot leave. So, then, what will you say before this is finished?” He made a motion and the cloth gagging the young God fell to the ground.

Hephaestus wasted no time. “Please, you can’t do this. I won’t… I’ll change! I’ll side with you! Aphrodite won’t stay with me, anyways. She always promises and never does. Please, Father, please don’t.” The words tumbled from his mouth like drops in a waterfall. “I can fix it, I can change, I can be good, I’ll remake my forge and I’ll do whatever you need me to, just please don’t do this! Please!” He trailed off in a series of ‘please’s’ and ‘no’s’, tears falling freely and shaking too hard to keep his voice steady.

Zeus looked… troubled. Torn. “I want to believe you, but words are so easy. Your actions have told me otherwise. You are my child… were my child. I wanted to love you. I wanted to save you from yourself. But I can no longer let love cloud my vision. I am sorry.” He blinked away the tears of his own that were threatening to form.

“No!” Hephaestus howled, pulling at his bonds. “Please no!”

Zeus shook his head and returned to stand in front of his seat. “Apollo, Hyperion asks that you take his artifact in his stead. Hermes, Hades asks that you take his. If you will.” He motioned to the items, and the two Gods stood and took up the staff and coins, standing next to their father. Iapetus and the mysterious woman stood as well. “Hecate, the time, please.”

“Two minutes until seven-forty-seven.”

Zeus nodded. “Anextiomarus, stand before us.”

Richard glanced at the door, seeing if he could escape. Two members of the studios security team were blocking any attempt to leave. He took a deep breath and stood, making his way warily to the group. As he passed Hephaestus, the Fire God pleaded with him to change Zeus’s mind. Whatever was about to happen, it was not going to be good. The British God’s stomach churned, what would the Greeks do to him?

“One minute.”

And so they waited. For sixty seconds, they all waited in silence, trying to ignore the crying young man kneeling in the center of the candle circle. Richard didn’t look any of the Gods in the eye, but stared at a blank spot in the wall behind them. Whatever they were about to do, he wasn’t going to go through it like the God bound on the floor.

“It’s time.” Hecate whispered. It echoed throughout the room.

Iapetus spoke first. “I am Immortality. Immortality is a gift and a curse. I take from one, and give to the other. All time forward, all births and deaths. Let one belong to the other, and the other belong to the one.” He closed his eyes and spoke something in what Richard assumed was Greek. When he opened his eyes, they were completely black. Shadows rose around the God, and stood still, waiting.

Apollo took the staff and held it high. “Hyperion is Power so great it moves the stars and skies. I bear this magic in Hyperion’s name. Let the world change to suit Zeus’s will. Let power be taken from one and gifted to the other.” He, too, said something Greek. Bright white light shone around the staff, and Richard was forced to squint his eyes to adjust.

The woman’s voice floated in. “I am Mother of All. A child is a gift, but that gift can turn on the receiver. A child of Zeus you will no longer be, Hephaestus. I take that from you, and gift another child in return.” She mumbled her Greek words, and instead of light, the world seemed to bend around her, like an enormous bubble.

Hermes was next, bearing the coins. “Hades is One of the Three, of the Sky, of the Middle, of the Underworld. I bear this magic from the Underworld in Hades’s name. All Three be in consensus, and let the power be shared.” Another sentence in Greek, and the coins glowed in an eerie silver light.

Poseidon’s voice rang out, rich and calm. “I am One of the Three, of the Sky, of the Middle, of the Underworld. I give my magic of the Middle. All Three be in consensus, and let the power be shared.” More Greek, and a teal tint surrounded him.

Zeus was last. “I am One of the Three, of the Sky, of the Middle, of the Underworld. I take the magic from my brothers and use it in consensus. I take the gifts from the one who holds them, and give them to their rightful owner. What has been decided will be!” He raised one hand, bringing lightning down inside the dark room. The power from all the others merged, and Zeus literally held the bolt of lightning in his hand and threw it at Hephaestus, exactly how every old story told described it and all the old painters had depicted it. It was an incredible sight, and the memory burned into the minds of the two young mortals who bore witness.

Instead of hitting and dissipating, the lightning circled Hephaestus and held, and all the rest of the magic swirled inside the lightning circle. Red and gold light came, emerging from Hephaestus, merging with the other colors. The black faded from the circle, absorbing into his body. The young man screamed until his voice failed him, then finally, he collapsed into unconsciousness. But the lightning was not done. It hovered for just a moment, holding all the other magic with it… then went straight for Richard.

The Englishman held up his hands instinctively. The sensation took his breath away and his legs gave out somewhere during all of it, but no there was no pain. The sensation of electricity was there, combined with other things Richard could not even begin to describe. It was elating and humbling. Awesome and devastating all at the same time. He felt like he was pulled apart and put back together again. When the light finally vanished from around him, he found himself on the floor breathing hard, but otherwise fine. He carefully picked himself up to face the Gods. “I know all of you know what just happened, but it would have been nice if you explained it to me.” His voice was shaky and his balance wavered.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “Short version? You are now a child of Zeus.”

Richard staggered and managed to catch himself. “Excuse me?”

“I disowned Hephaestus, which stripped him of his powers. But the powers have to go somewhere. I could let them fade into the universe, or put them somewhere else. Guess which one I picked.” Ian looked incredibly pleased with himself.

“You could have told me first!” Richard barely held himself up.

“And let you argue the point?" Ian gave a small chuckle. "No.”

Richard felt his balance begin to give out. “I think… I need to sit down.” Aidan grabbed a chair and managed to slide it underneath the Englishman before he hit the floor again. That was the last thing Richard said before darkness took him.

 

*********************************

 

Ian volunteered a very specific Kiwi-Irish pair to help Richard back to his trailer.

The Englishman had lost consciousness immediately after collapsing into the chair, slumping down and nearly sliding off, if it hadn’t been for Aidan and Dean propping him up. The two of them had been told to take Richard back to his trailer immediately, despite asking repeatedly what was going to happen to Hephaestus. The Gods insisted that Richard be put into his bed and was ‘Tucked in properly, he’s had a hell of a day.’

Dean could help a semi-conscious Aidan around. Even when the Irishman wasn’t fully capable of moving himself, he could still cling onto the Kiwi. Richard, however, was dead weight, fully unconscious and actually quite a bit heavier than Aidan. It took both of them to drag Richard all the way through the studio lot and to his trailer. It took a fast-talking Aidan to explain why Richard was unconscious so early at night; he eventually came up with ‘Richard got a concussion because he thought he could beat both of us at the same time in sword fighting. He lost. We’ve already been lectured by Liz, thank you.’

Responsible Richard had locked his trailer, but luckily put his keys in his jacket pocket, not his jeans. They dumped him in his bed, covered him with his blanket, then retreated back to Richard’s couch. Richard hadn’t left them when they’d needed him – or even when they didn’t need him– and they both felt guilty about leaving him alone.

“Y’know, I hate to say this, but his place makes yours look like a bloody mess, mate. I mean, I don’t see any dirt anywhere!” Aidan looked around. “How does he find time to clean it?”

“I think he just never lets it get dirty,” Dean shrugged. “What d’you suppose is going to happen to him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think they hurt him….” Aidan looked down at the carpet. “That other guy, though…”

“They didn’t kill him. They could have. He was breathing when we left.” Dean reminded him.

They sat together, on Richard’s couch, finally alone after four days. Neither one knew what to say. Finally, Dean leaned over and put his head on Aidan’s shoulder. “Y’know, this isn’t half bad. No wonder you fall asleep.”

“You idiot.”

“You egg.”

“I’ve known you for half a year now and I still don’t get that.” Aidan huffed.

“Not my problem.”

“Deano?”

“What?”

“We uh… the other day we… damn-“

“We were both in shock, and I started it, if you remember. Those idiots shouldn’t have left us. I guess Gods don’t get shock. Which is really funny, because in the Almighty Johnsons, I’m pretty sure we do. Get shock. In the show, I mean.” Dean knew he was rambling, but he really, really didn’t want to hear what Aidan had to say.

“I’m really, really sorry.” Aidan mumbled.

Well, THAT came out of nowhere. “Why are YOU sorry?” Dean sat back up and stared at his best friend.

“I kissed you, mate! With tongue! You didn’t even hit me, or nuthin’! And then we… went a whole lot farther than we should’ve.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Aidan?”

“Hm?”

“Shut the hell up.” He shifted and wrapped his arm around the Irishman. Aidan squirmed, but didn’t shove him off. “You have an issue with it?”

“…no…”

“Well, I don’t have an issue with it. Now, we can either kiss to seal it, or watch a movie.”

Aidan got very quiet. “You DO know I’m not gay, right?” Dean kept himself from sighing. He moved to take his arm away, but the Irishman latched onto it. “Shite, I’ve got no clue what I’m doing.” Aidan mumbled. “Just… stay like that, okay?”

Dean allowed himself a smile. “Whatever you want.” He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss on Aidan’s cheek. “Should I go get one of my boring movies for us to watch?”

“Are you planning on snogging through it?”

“Only if that’s what you want,” Dean tried to sound non-committal. Aidan didn’t respond, so Dean leaned closer and shifted slightly on the couch, leaning towards the Irishman. His heart almost jumped in his chest when Aidan shifted to meet him.

None of those hurried kissed from the last time, Dean was going to make this nice and slow and keep it in the range the dark one was comfortable with. If he went too far when they both had their wits about them, the Irishman would run. Couldn’t have that. Lips were parted, tongues tentatively touched, but there wasn’t any frenzied fear involved this time. Dean watched his hands, keeping them mostly around Aidan’s shoulders or neck. Keep careful, he reminded himself.

Aidan, for his part, didn’t run. They were both sober, not terrified out of their minds, and Aidan was perfectly fine with it. Granted, he’d only kissed one other bloke, and it had felt like kissing a girl at the time. Dean wasn’t like that. Dean gave and took, he didn’t just let Aidan take control. That was… different. Soft and sweet and warm. Just enough keep him wanting more, and more he decided to get. Aidan slid his hand into Dean's, interlacing their fingers, and slid his spare arm Dean's neck. The blonde didn’t let him rush, didn’t push for too much, and was apparently a gentleman right now when it came to groping. Not that Aidan wasn’t grateful for it – he still wasn’t completely sure of himself for anything past snogging. Even so, it was heaven.

So they spent the rest of the evening talking about nothing, interspersed with kisses here and there, both trying to figure out how the hell their friendship was going to work from then on. Dean eventually retrieved some blankets from his trailer and they kipped at Richard’s, Aidan on the couch and Dean on the floor. Aidan had complained when Dean suggested that he was shorter and would fit on the couch better. The blonde had a sneaking suspicion that Aidan had never camped in his parents’ living room as a kid.

Just as they were drifting off to sleep, Aidan reached down and ran his hands through Dean's blonde hair, relishing in the nearness. Dean took Aidan's dangling hand in his own and held on as they headed off to the land of Morpheus together.

 

*************************

 

Richard was sure he’d gotten blasted for the first time since he’d been on set. Yes, they all went out for drinks regularly. Yes, he had a stash of lager hidden in his cupboard. But this hangover was absolutely horrible. He went through the checklist of what he’d done the previous day. Gotten up, made and ate breakfast, went to make-up and wardrobe. Check. Ran around a pretend armory, stole weapons, got annoyed at Kili, then repeated this for several hours. Check. Lunch in canteen. Check. Noticed that Aidan and Dean never went more than three feet from each in said canteen and that they were practically sharing their lunches. Again. Check. Went back to the armory, tried not to laugh when one of Aidan’s trips resulted in two other Dwarves being hit with fake weapons. Check. Dinner. Check. Made sure that his two ‘nephews’ weren’t into anything and that nobody else was going to try to kill them. Check. Pretended to ignore the fact that his two ‘nephews’ really should just give up the charade and man up instead of skirting around each other like idiot teenagers. Check.

That was a normal day, so what happened?

Richard rolled over in bed and checked his alarm clock. Noon. It couldn’t be noon! He hadn’t slept that long in years! What had he been drinking, his whole body ached! He pulled himself out of bed, realized he was still in his clothes from yesterday, and flew to change into something comfortable that worked with his costume. As he rummaged, he went back over his checklist. After he’d followed his 'nephews' to their trailer, Martin had shown up. They’d gone to one of the old offices and…

Oh, damn.

He froze in the middle of his bedroom, holding a black T-shirt. They… they CHANGED him. Slowly, he held out one of his hands in an exercise he hadn’t tried in nearly a century. Calm oneself, pull from oneself, manifest from oneself. Let the energy move and flow and…

Richard knocked over his bedside table, jumping away from the flame that cheerily popped into his hand.

The fire was definitely something new.

Not a dream, then. He wasn’t a Genius Locus anymore.

Did this make him a Greek God? Or just a rather unusual Briton? What about his ties to his home, were they still there? His tribe? His Dwarves? He closed his eyes and, in another exercise he hadn’t been able to do in decades, tried to pick them out, find his tribe among the mass of people at the studio. There they were, scattered all over. Two very close by. Three more in the canteen, three in nearby trailers. One was walking around a set, stopping repeatedly before starting again. Two more weren’t in the studio lot, they’d probably gone out for lunch. Had Peter given them the day off? The last two of his Company was by the gaming room, where the ping pong table had been set up. One of those would be Martin. That made fourteen for the Company. As he thought about it, he found the others – cast and crew. All over the place. Wait... there was another one very, very far away. Richard smiled to himself. Lee.

He hadn’t lost his tribal abilities. In fact, he’d gotten them back.

He’d just also gained the ability to set his trailer on fire, is all.

Bloody hell.

He threw his clothes on, fairly certain that they wouldn’t be doing any filming. Coming out of his bedroom, he figured out where the two very close by were. They were sitting at his dining table, playing cards, of all things.

“Hey, Rich. You done sleepin’?” Aidan asked, not looking up from his cards. “I hope so, ‘cause we’ve been waiting forever for you. I already owe Deano three trips to the fish and chips place and another fucking ramble in the woods. He’s a ringer, I swear.”

“Morning!” Dean chirped. “Er, afternoon.”

Richard opened his cupboard, pulled out a glass, and filled it up from the faucet. He downed it in one go, then repeated. Twice.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

“I have the hangover from hell,” Richard answered. “And I happen to be trying to get rid of it. My body wants water, it’s getting water.”

“Hangovers aren’t caused by dehydration.” Aidan supplied. “I looked that up after my first binger. And you didn’t drink anything. Not unless you got up in the middle of the night, which we would’ve known about.”

“You slept in my trailer?”

“Yup.” Aidan grinned.

“Out, both of you. Go find somebody else to bother.” Richard was torn between pulling the two of them up by their collars to shove them out the door, and thanking them for staying nearby and keeping safe. He compromised, though his headache insisted they go away for a while.

They slid out of their seats and collected their things. “How come YOU get to stay in OUR trailers all the time, but we can’t stay in yours?” The Irishman complained.

“Because. One, you don’t have a hangover from magic, or dehydration, or both. Two, I’m your uncle and I said so. And three, I don’t make a mess in your trailer. Now go!”

He opened the door and shooed them out. As soon as they were gone, Richard sunk down into his couch, holding his head in his hands. This was going to be a hell of a day.

***********************

Richard finally left his trailer an hour later when his headache subsided and his body stopped aching, thanks to some over-the-counter meds. The first thing he did was locate his 'nephews', a task now made much easier by the return of his tribal powers. He found them in the canteen with James, Graham, and Martin's children, Dean merrily showing Martin's son how to make truck noises. Aidan had been kidnapped by Graham's daughter Honor; she had apparently declared that she was keeping him because he had 'funny curly hair'. They explained to Richard that Graham had put them on babysitting duty soon after they'd left Richard's trailer.

The boys were obviously very safe.

The next order of business was to find Ian. Again, it wasn't too hard to find him, but it took him a while to get there. Richard managed to bump into Jeb, who was excitedly talking to the woman Richard recognized from the ceremony the previous night. Jeb introduced her as his mother, which Richard raised an eyebrow to but didn't say anything. She gave him a wink and a smile.

Richard found Ian relaxing with Patrick, playing a game of croquet. As Richard approached, Patrick looked up as said "Ah, my newest nephew. Good afternoon. You're looking in good form, the last time we did that the person was out for three days. They were mortal to begin with, though."

"I have questions," Richard crossed his arms and glared at them.

Ian stared at the croquet field in front of him. "I'm sure you do. First of all, you're my son now, just as much as Martin and Peter and Simon. I'll make sure you're schooled in all the Greek literature and language; you'll pick it up fairly quickly."

"Why?" Richard asked.

"Because you now have Greek magic flowing through you," Ian explained.

"That's not what I meant. Why did you do that?"

The croquet mallet was set down and Ian wiped his hands on his pants. "Because I could. Because you were dying and I didn't want to see that happen. I am Zeus, I do as I please. Now, did you want to join the game?"

Richard ran his hands through his hair. "No, I don't want to play... this is absolutely insane."

"Yes, it is. And you will have a thousand or more lives after this one to deal with all the insanity. You're linked to an element, you won't fade ever again." Ian gave him a grin and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're part of this family, now. My family. I won't ever loose you." He meant it.

It was overwhelming. Richard took a deep breath and nodded. "I... don't know what to say..."

"You're welcome." Ian grinned.

"I never said 'thank you'," Richard looked confused.

Patrick chuckled. "Not with words, no. But actions speak louder than words."

"Lessons are on Tuesdays after filming. Dean and Aidan will also be in attendance. Oh, speaking of those two, I have to go over the search for Athena with you. We'll discuss it later, son." Ian lifted his mallet again and turned to Patrick. "All right, my brother, let's see if I can't show you how this game is really played." The two old Gods went back to their game, oblivious to the world around them.

 

********************************

 

"Gotcha!"

Little Mary Nesbitt let out a squeal of delight, her skirts flying out as Dean picked her up and spun her around. "Do it again!" She demanded, giggling, as soon as Dean put her down.

"Where does your energy come from, a battery?" Aidan sighed at the child.

"You're silly! Cousin Dean, do it again!" Mary reached her arms up to be lifted again. Dean obliged, spinning her until she was so dizzy she fell down as soon as Dean set her on the ground again.

When Graham had insisted they baby-sit the little ones, it hadn't seemed like a hard job to do. The hardest part had been keeping Martin's son and little Mary separate: both claimed the other had 'cooties'. Hours after Graham's initial request, they were still in the canteen and the sun was slowly dipping beneath the green hills in the distance. Graham had picked up Honor and Martin and his wife had taken their children out to eat. But James had gotten caught up on a scene, and had phoned to tell them it would be a while before he could pick up Mary. Mary's sister, Peggy, had spent the day with Peter's children, out shopping in Wellington. Now that the other children were gone, Mary's attention was focused on them.

Or, rather, on Dean.

Dean apparently knew all the important things about playing with children: how to make truck sounds, how to pretend to be a dinosaur, how to play 'the ground is lava', and other things that children deemed necessary. He'd taken to babysitting like a duck to water, merrily playing with the children all day.

Right now he was playing with Mary, and Aidan wasn't sure he was glad about it. On one hand, it was great to know that Dean loved kids, on the other hand... Dean loved kids. Aidan wasn't so good with children, and Dean's love of children was making Aidan nervous.

"What's wrong, Cousin Aidan?" Mary asked, tugging on his pant leg. She had on the pouty-face that children excelled at. Behind her, Dean looked worried.

Aidan smiled at Mary and bent to look her in the eye. "Nothing, little bug. I'm just thinking."

"About what?" Mary asked curiously.

"Adventures?" Aidan shrugged. Kids liked adventures, right?

Mary squealed in delight. "We can go have an adventure?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Dean help me with this." Aidan's eyes widened. Dean smirked and shook his head. "What kind of adventure would you like?" Aidan asked Mary. Hopefully, she'd just ask him to pretend he was a lion, or something.

"Let's go outside!" Mary insisted.

Dean knelt next to the child. "We can't do that. We'll get in trouble." He really didn't want to explain to James why they weren't there when he came to pick up his daughter.

Mary's nose scrunched up. "But... I wanna go outside! I wanna see what Daddy's doing! Outside for an adventure!" She stomped her foot as she wailed, which would have been more impressive if her foot hadn't been under layers of 'Tilda' dress.

Crap. How do you handle a stubborn child? Aidan wasn't quite sure, and Dean looked as lost as Aidan felt. "Okay, we'll go see the sets for just a minute!" Aidan declared, hoping it would stop a future tide of tears.

It worked. As suddenly as it started, the whining stopped, and Mary was reaching for Dean to pick her up again. The Kiwi lifted the child and put her on his shoulders. "I think we've been had." Dean chuckled at Aidan.

Aidan glanced up at the child. "Yeah I think so... but we did promise her that we'd go see."

They snuck out of the canteen, Mary giggling the entire time. It wasn’t long before they got to a soundstage and made their way in, looking for James. Laketown had been set up, an entire set made to look as though it was floating on water. They’d CGI the water in later, but the set was still spectacular. The two actors, child still on Dean's shoulders, picked their way through the equipment and cameras, past the snacks table and the tents. Nobody paid them any attention.

"We're spies!" Mary whispered loudly at them from her spot on Dean's shoulders.

"That we are,” Dean reached up and put her down. “It looks like they’re filming something. Let’s see!” He gave the child a conspiring look.

They snuck forward and positioned themselves in what they hoped was an inconspicuous spot. James was nowhere to be seen, he was probably on another set, but the child didn't seem to care. This was her grand adventure, and she was going to enjoy it! Mary knew to be quiet while filming – she’d been on sets with her father before – and the three of them watched as Orlando Bloom jumped from one spot to another with the help of a rig. He bounced onto a railing over a bridge… and slipped.

Mary’s resulting giggle was not as inconspicuous as their spot, since it took less than a minute for Andy to find them.

“Hello. Does Peter know where you are?” Andy crossed his arms at the actors. Mary hid behind them.

“I… ah… hello, Andy. I thought Mary was supposed to be on set today, so I brought her. I mean, she’s in her costume and all.” Aidan gave the second-unit director a little wave.

Andy nodded. “So why are you hiding?”

“I haven’t come up with a reason for that…” Dean looked down.

“Thought so. Mary,” Andy bent down to make himself eye level with the child. She peered at him curiously from behind Dean. “Why are you wearing your costume? Did they tell you to wear it?”

“Nuh-uh!” Mary shook her head. “Daddy said that the dress needed to be played in so it looked real. I even tore it and Daddy was happy! I played in the mud, too, before they made me go inside. Daddy said it was okay to play in the mud.”

Andy nodded. “Well, that’s very nice, but you can’t be here right now.”

“Why?” Mary asked with all the innocence a child could muster. Dean snickered and looked down again.

“Because it’s a set.”

"Why?"

"Because we have to make sure that everyone can act without distractions." Andy answered.

"Why?"

Aidan could see that Andy was resisting the urge to shout at Mary. Aidan wished he had a camera - The Great Andy Sirkis, arguing with a child! "Because I said so."

Mary's nose scrunched up again. "You don't like me!" She bawled.

Oh, yeah, that kid had the crying thing down. Aidan wondered how many time she'd used it on James. It was quite an effective tool. Smart kid.

Andy sighed. “Okay, tell you what, you can stay for a little while. Aidan and Dean can watch you until your Daddy comes. But when your Daddy comes, you have to go. Okay?”

The tears vanished. "Okay." Mary grinned.

Andy looked down at the child, then back up at the actors. "You didn't teach her that, did you?" Aidan and Dean shook their heads. "I pity Jimmy." Andy sighed. Then, louder, he called out to the crew. "All right, reset!"

************************************

Dean laughed when Aidan turned up at his trailer in the middle of the day. “You look like shit.”

“I’m supposed to! I’m dying!” Aidan scowled.

“You don’t look happy about it, either. And you’ll probably scare little Mary.”

“What part of dying didn’t you get?” Aidan crossed his arms.

Dean shook his head and pulled two sodas from his fridge. “Think they’ll take too long fixing Bard’s house?”

“Bet you ten quid that we don’t go back at all today.” Aidan grinned. “Share that, thank you.”

Dean handed over a drink. “Peter will kill us if he finds out.”

“I’m dying, I don’t care. All I have to do is writhe around and groan. Caffeine helps with that.”

“You could just drink tea,” Dean pointed out. “It’s better for you. And you still have to hit on Tauriel. ‘Do you think… She could have loved me?” Dean put his hand over his heart. “It’s enough to make a man jealous.”

“Hey, at least you’re not the one who has to say that line with a straight face! Anyway, I don’t think Evangeline likes me very much.” Aidan sulked.

“You don’t talk to her! And you’re not Lee. See, if you were Lee, she wouldn’t let you out of her sight.”

Aidan turned on Dean’s newly purchased replacement X-box before stretching out on Dean’s couch. “Seriously?”

“You didn’t notice? She’s got massive crush on him.”

“Nope, didn’t notice. Too bad Lee’s with Richard.”

“Eh, whatever. If you’re going to hit on anyone, I’d prefer it was me.” Dean grinned at Aidan as he said that.

Aidan smirked and focused on choosing a map for their Call of Duty bout. Dean took a seat next to him, making sure to sit flush against the brunette, well, if not for the bulky costumes. Aidan pulled his pink and yellow hair clips – Dean had bought those as a joke ages ago– from the pocket inside his tunic and snapped them into place, keeping Kili’s hair out of his eyes. It wasn’t long before Aidan had maneuvered himself so his head was in Dean’s lap, still managing to beat Dean at the game while staring at the screen sideways. It just wasn’t fair.

A knock on the trailer door brought the two of them out of ‘gaming mode’. Aidan refused to move, but the blonde reminded him that Peter and Andy didn’t like to be kept waiting if they were ready to shoot. The archer sulked and moved enough for Dean to get up and answer the door. Dean opened the door, stared at the person looking up at him, and slammed it shut.

“Aid, call Richard. Call Ian. Call someone!”

“Uhm, Mister O’Gorman?” A voice called from outside. “Mister Jackson said you need to be back on set. Mister O’Gorman? Please don’t do this, it’s only my second day working here! I don’t want to get fired! Please?” The person knocked on the door again.

“What the fuck?” Aidan scowled.

“It’s Hephaestus, he’s outside!” Dean hissed. He turned and shouted through the door “Go away!”

“I can’t! The senior assistant told me to come get you! I really, really don’t want to get fired!” There was a note of desperation to that.

Aidan jumped up from the couch and yanked the door open. “What do you want?”

The young man looked up at Aidan with nervous and star-struck eyes. “I was told to come get Mister O’Gorman. Oh, and you, Mister Turner. I’m Tim. Hi. I just got hired in.”

Dean crossed his arms from behind Aidan. “Yeah, right.”

“No, really! I was a pizza guy, but they fired me because I got hurt on this set and went into a coma for almost a week. So Mister Jackson hired me, he said he felt guilty. Can you believe it! Me, working for Sir Peter Jackson! I mean, ah, they need you on set right now. So…uhm….” Tim pointed in the direction of the soundstages. “Yeah.”

“Just one second,” the Kiwi shut the door again. “What do we do? Do you believe him?”

“Christ, I dunno. He doesn’t look all murderous now.”

“He didn’t look murderous the last time, either. Not until Graham tried to set him on fire.” Dean argued. “I’m not going to go through that again.”

Aidan shrugged. “We could always just call Peter.” He picked up Dean’s cell phone and tossed it to him. “You know he always answers unless he’s filming.”

It was worth a shot. Dean found Peter’s number and dialed. It barely rang once. “Dean, hi, where are you? One of the assistants was supposed to come get you.”

“Yeah, apparently a certain ex-God came to get me.”

“Ah. Well.” Peter sounded chided. “Now that I think about it, I never said which one should go…. I didn’t think they’d send him, though.”

“You KNOW about this?” Dean raged at the director through the phone. He started pacing the trailer. Aidan looked worried, but Dean waved him off.

“He may have been stupid, but we can’t just dump him out there after all that. First of all, he had no job and no way to survive. Second of all, Aphrodite would attempt contact, and she could brainwash him all over again.”

“Again?” What did Peter mean by that?

“Well, we removed his power, he’s no longer a God. Problem is, without that, he’s just a normal kid. Every memory he made while thinking of… God things is gone, along with every memory of any previous life. He’s just… Tim. Plain old Tim, without thousands of years of memories and being slowly driven insane by his wife. And as Tim, he’s actually pretty stable, unlike his Hephaestus self.”

“You mean he’s got amnesia?” Dean guessed.

“Selective, but yeah.” Peter acknowledged. “We don’t know why that happens, but the theory is that it’s a coping mechanism. Otherwise, the mortal would go insane with all the memories of the God. It’s too much information, mortals aren’t built to keep it in their heads. We’ve only done that maybe a five times over the centuries, but it seems to happen every time.”

“What’s he saying?” Aidan hissed.

Dean moved the phone away from his mouth. “Psycho kid lost his psycho.”

“How’s THAT work?” Aidan made a face.

“Don't ask me,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“So he’s safe?” Aidan glanced at the trailer’s windows nervously.

Dean repeated the question to Peter. “Of course he’s safe!” Peter sounded exasperated. “We took his phone away from him, so Aphrodite can’t get to him that way. And we’re watching for any of her people near the studio. Without her influence, he has no reason to hurt you. He doesn’t even remember trying to kill you. If you want, we can make him your personal assistant.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Dean mumbled. “We’ll be right there.” He and Aidan left the trailer, locking it behind them. “Okay, kid.” Dean glared at Tim. “Lead the way.”

Tim beamed like a fool and nearly tripped over himself as he led them towards the soundstage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to W.D. again! I hope you enjoy your Sylvester McCoy autograph!


	14. Planes, Flames, and Automobiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aidan and Dean discuss a photo shoot, Richard is used as a bloodhound, and Ian wants pub food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for any errors, this hasn't been through the last edit.

They’d ended filming early that day, leaving the cast free to do whatever they wanted.

And Dean knew exactly what we wanted. He’d cornered Aidan in the Irishman’s trailer and was refusing to let him go until the Irishman gave him what he wanted.

“Oh, come on, you can’t be serious!” Aidan argued.

Dean shrugged. “You owe me. It’s either this or another trip through the woods. You’ll enjoy it, I promise. A lot more than the woods, anyway.”

“That’s beside the point! It’s blackmail!”

“One time.”

“I know you. One time will turn into twenty."

“….Probably, but it’ll still be fun!” The Kiwi gave him a winning grin.

“You swear I won’t have to go out into the woods with you again?”

“Cross my heart. I won’t torture you with it again.” Dean made a little ‘X’ across his chest.

“Fine, I’ll be a good little soldier for your photo shoot.” Aidan sighed, giving in.

Dean grinned at Aidan, moving in close. “You can't wear modern clothes for the shoot. I'll get to take these clothes off you… slowly…?” He wrapped his arms around Aidan. “Piece…” he gave Aidan a kiss on the shoulder. “By…” Another kiss on the neck. “Piece?” Finally a kiss on the lips.

“You are so very cruel to me,” Aidan mumbled into Dean’s lips. “If you wanted some shots of me in my birthday suit, you should’ve said something sooner.”

“Adam, Luke, and Graham wanted to do the soldier photos, too. I want to keep you all to myself, so it’s either a private shoot for me and you or I’ll just have to live with you wearing clothes.” Dean smiled and pressed another kiss on Aidan’s neck.

“Or both…” Aidan slid a hand under Dean’s favorite green shirt. “Never hurts to take extra photos, you know.”

“You in a uniform, that’ll be interesting. Even better, you taking off the uniform.” Dean smirked. “I’ll have to keep some of those photos for my private collection.”

“Do you want to start on that collection now?” Aidan gave Dean a look of pure evil and dragged him towards the bedroom. Dean followed very willingly, grabbing his camera bag as he went.

 

*****************************

 

Ian was clearly annoyed. He knew the boys had a rough time filming today, that the ‘spider battle’ had left them exhausted, even more so because it was the fifth day of filming it. Still, it was no excuse to miss a lesson. They’d skirted Graham on their cooking lesson yesterday, and now they’d avoided Ian. Richard, bless his tracker ability, had informed him that they were both in Aidan’s trailer before he left to go pick up Lee at the airport.

A knock on the door brought nobody to it, so Ian carefully checked the handle. Unlocked. After all the assassination attempts, one would think they’d be a little more careful. Well, an unlocked door is an invitation, so in Ian went.

The boys weren’t in the tiny living room, nor were they in the kitchenette. Really, how did a trailer get so messy? The bedroom door was closed. “Hello?” Ian called out. Those two weren’t… were they?

Very creative swearing emerged from the door, followed by several words that Ian couldn’t clearly hear. A hissed “go” was heard, and Aidan opened the door slightly and slid out. His hair was rumpled and his shirt was backwards. Ian supposed he should be grateful that the boy was wearing pants.

“Ian, hi, how’re you? What brings you here?” The Irishman couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Wondering where you and Dean were. You’re late for the lesson.” Ian scowled.

“Ah, lesson, right.” Aidan glanced back at the door. “I fell asleep. You know me, always sleeping.”

“I see. And what was Dean doing while you were asleep?” The old man was having trouble suppressing his grin.

“Dean? No clue. Haven’t seen him in hours.” Aidan said.

Ian leaned around Aidan and gave the door a light shove. The door swung open, and they both got a clear view of Dean sliding his own shirt back on. Actually, come to think of it, that was one of Aidan’s shirts Dean was putting on. And the shirt Aidan was wearing looked suspiciously like Dean’s favorite green T-shirt. “Haven’t seen him, hm?”

“I can explain-“

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ian said. “How long has this been going on?”

“Ah, since you caught Hephaestus,” Dean muttered.

Ian broke out in a grin. “Ah. So Jimmy wins the betting pool, then. Good to know. Don’t tell Peter or Fran, though.” Dean was caught between telling Ian off for betting on them – really, that was unprofessional – and demanding to know why Ian hadn’t gone Zeus-mode on them and reminded them that they were supposed to be looking for Athena, not making out in Aidan’s trailer. Ian picked for him.

“I don’t care what you two are doing behind the scenes, you are bait, not necessarily potential candidates for Athena’s hand. You can go screw each other if you please, just as long as it doesn’t translate to the screen and word doesn’t get out. Which it won’t.”

“We weren’t….” Aidan started to protest. “We hadn’t gotten that far….” He shifted and stared at a blank spot on the wall.

“Ah, well. There’s a time for everything.” Ian nodded. “And right now it’s time for your Greek lessons. My trailer, five minutes.”

As Ian left, Dean slipped off Aidan’s shirt. “Might as well not advertise to the entire crew,” he said, handing it back.

“It’s not my fault yours was closer,” Aidan protested, worming out of Dean’s smaller shirt. Before Aidan could put his shirt back on, Dean leaned down and left a kiss on Aidan’s fuzzy chest, wrapping his arms around the taller man. Aidan let out a low groan and ran his hands across Dean’s shoulders and down. “We don’t have time.”

“We’ve got five minutes.” Dean muttered into Aidan’s chest.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” Aidan moaned. Dean placed a trail of tiny kisses from Aidan's chest up to his neck - his favourite spot. “Come on.” Aidan tugged Dean’s head up. “Let’s get this over with. I think Ian does this ‘cause he’s lonely.” He gave Dean a wonderfully hot kiss before stepping back and pulling his shirt back on.

“I think he does it ‘cause he wants one of us to marry his daughter,” Dean snorted. “He likes you for it better, you know. He’s just not going to break us up in order to do it.”

Aidan frowned at that. He’d never thought about getting married. Not once, in all the time he dated Lenora, did marriage come up. Did he ever want to get married? Would it work, with him being an actor and not home most of the time? How long could he and Dean stay together, how permanent was this relationship? Dean loved New Zealand. It was his home. And yes, Aidan thought it was gorgeous, but he missed Ireland. If he went home, they would be half a globe apart. Would it work out? Aidan wasn’t sure he’d want to stay in New Zealand, or that Dean would want to come to Ireland. Long-distance relationships were hard. He shook his head and the nagging thoughts away. Live in the now. He was good at that. Worry about the future when it comes.

 

**********************

 

Richard looked at his watch. Twenty minutes. It was twenty minutes late. His stomach churned a bit, but he steeled himself. He promised himself that he’d be here, and so here he was. Refusing to stare at the second hand of his watch, he looked into the crowd ahead of him.

And saw a familiar man that was taller than most and walked with the gait only Americans could pull off.

“LEE!” Richard waved at him from across the terminal. Hopefully Lee wouldn’t get a cab and go straight to the studio. Richard jumped, waving his arms like a fool until Lee spotted him, trotting on over with his luggage in tow.

Lee wrapped an arm around Richard into the closest thing to a hug they could manage with Lee’s bags. “You came to get me? I could have just taken a taxi.” He grinned, relishing in Richard’s warmth. He let go and gave Richard a shove, still grinning.

Richard took a bag from Lee and they headed out to the car Richard had borrowed from the studio. He helped the American pack his bags into the boot and climbed into the driver’s seat. Lee rested his head on the passenger window as they left the Wellington Airport. “Are you tired?” Richard asked nervously.

“Hm?” Lee looked back at Richard. “No. Stressed. I hate airports.” He noticed something bump his foot and looked down. “Richard, why is there a fire extinguisher in your car?”

“In case I get mad at the traffic.” Richard said quietly. Stupid fire had been popping up at the worst moments, he’d already lost three shirts and set a picnic table alight. Louder, he said, “Would you like to go out to eat?” Richard sounded… unsure about that. Would Lee want to go to dinner with him? They’d never even had a proper date.

“McDonald’s?” Lee asked hopefully.

“Somewhere nice,” Richard insisted. “I made reservations.”

Lee chuckled. “Richard’s taking me somewhere nice. What happened to him while I was gone? Maybe he’s become a pod person!” Richard rolled his eyes at the American and continued to drive.

It wasn’t long before they pulled into the valet station of an expensive local restaurant, where Richard left the car in the hands of a teenager who looked like he didn’t know how to work an I-pod, let alone a car. They went inside, were escorted to their table, and Richard ordered wine.

“So, did I miss an anniversary, or something?” Lee joked as he glanced over the menu.

Richard didn’t look up from his own menu. “Lee… we need to talk.”

Lee folded his menu and sighed. “I see. So… we’re ending this…” he motioned between the two of them. “Whatever it is we had. Friends with benefits? What’s the British term for it?” He looked very tired and cross.

Richard took a drink of his wine. He should have just taken Lee to a pub. Then he’d have beer. Beer made you drunk faster. He needed to be drunk for this. “Yes, I... want to stop being... friends... with benefits.”

“You fucker,” Lee leaned back in his chair. He moved to leave, but Richard stopped him, latching onto his wrist and giving the American a pleading look. Lee sat back down, but didn’t look happy. “You’re screwing those two hellions aren’t you? Dean and Aidan.” He hissed.

Definitely needed more alcohol. “No. Gods, no. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Richard shook his head. “Lee, you’re misunderstanding. I don’t want to break up.”

“We weren’t really in a relationship to begin with,” Lee pointed out.

“Really? That’s why you’re upset at thinking I’ve been in bed with the terrible two, because we weren’t in a relationship?” Richard tried not to sound sarcastic. “Look, we had fun to begin with, but then… with this time apart… only talking on the phone, not being able to see you, to touch you... I realized that I missed you. You think I would have called you every day if I didn't think it was a relationship?” Lee glanced around the room, checking for eavesdroppers as Richard said this. “I want to stop being just ‘friends with benefits’ and be… be in an actual relationship. But, there‘s a problem with that.”

“A problem? Besides the fact that we live on opposite sides of the Atlantic?” Lee asked. As the waiter approached, Lee quickly opened his menu again and looked very interested in it. The waiter who had been heading towards them quickly turned around.

Richard polished off his wine. “A very big problem. I’m fine with it, but I’m not sure you’ll be…”

“As long as you weren’t screwing somebody else, I’m fine with it. You’re strange enough, can’t get any weirder.” Lee shrugged. His confident tone was belied by the fact that he took a very large gulp of his own wine.

Richard fiddled with the napkin in his lap. “I’m very, very not normal.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Richard looked straight at Lee. “I’m not even human.” Richard resisted the urge to duck behind his menu.

Lee looked thoughtful for a moment. “So… you ARE a pod person?”

“No, I’m not-“

“An alien?” Lee asked.

“Be serious,” Richard muttered.

"A giant Dwarf?"

“No! I’m a…I’m a God.” He’d done it, put it all out in the open. Now it was up to Lee.

Lee let out a breath of air and closed his menu. “And you say to be serious? Richard, really-“

“I am. I am Anextiomarus, both a Tribal Land God and now a Fire God,” Richard explained quietly, glancing around him. “My… Father is Zeus, my brothers are Hermes, Apollo, and Dionysus. I’d show you, but I don’t want to set the tablecloth on fire. I still don’t have full control of that, yet. It’s new. Look, I don’t want to… to start a relationship on a lie. I wanted you to know, first. I want you to understand.”

“Zeus?” Lee took another gulp of wine. “As in, throwing lightning Zeus? If your father is Zeus, then where is he?”

Richard thought about that. “It’s after filming on a Tuesday. He’s got Aidan and Dean in lessons right now, probably.”

“What, they’re Gods, too?”

“No, not at all. They’re… special.” Richard desperately wanted the waiter to come back and fill up his wine glass. This wasn’t going the way he’d planned. Right now he wanted to drink himself into oblivion and get a driver to take him back to his trailer.

What the fuck? Lee leaned back in his chair again. “Yeah, I know they’re special. You follow them around like some sort of duckling. That drove me insane, just so you know. I’ve heard you’ve gotten worse since I left.”

“Someone tried to kill Dean. I’ve just been worried about them.” Richard sighed.

“You know, if you wanted to split up what we had, you could’ve just said so, instead of coming up with this… stupid story.” Lee shoved the menu aside and stood.

“Lee, please, I don’t WANT to split up, I just want you to understand.” Richard pleaded.

“Oh, I understand. I’ll get a cab back. See you on set.” Lee turned and left.

As soon as the American left the restaurant, Richard slammed his hands on the table. Every candle in the building suddenly flared brightly, illuminating the surprised older diners and delighting the younger ones. Richard didn’t even notice it.

 

***********************

 

“Lee! How’re you, welcome back!” Aidan called out as he maneuvered through the trailers. He juggled the text Ian had told him to read – they were supposed to go over some old plays next week and Ian wanted them ready ahead of time. Which was smart, because it was likely that Aidan was going to start acting out the play when they went over it.

Lee shrugged. His cab ride back had been depressing and his fight with Richard had made it worse. “I’m here. That’s about it.”

“I thought Richard was picking you up?” Dean asked, coming up behind Aidan. “You know, hot date.” Aidan snickered at that. “Where is he?”

“Yeah, I thought you two would’ve caught the flame and been busy all night,” Aidan chuckled.

Dean shoved at his boyfriend. “You don’t know what’ll set them on fire.”

Lee stared at them. “The jokes aren’t funny,” Lee felt the anger he’d had at the restaurant flare up again. “Of all the stupid things for him to say, he should’ve just said that he didn’t want us to be together instead of that stupid Fire God joke. Nice to know he told the rest of the cast about it.”

“What? No, we’ve known for ages…” Aidan stammered.

Lee clenched his fists. “I’ll be in my trailer, thanks for telling me.” He stormed off to his trailer, unlocking and wrenching open the door before slamming it again. He didn’t have his luggage, it was still in Richard’s car, but he didn’t care. Dean and Aidan noticed that he didn’t turn on a single light once he’d gone inside.

“Did we just fucker that up?” Aidan asked, pointing at Lee’s trailer.

“I think Richard did…” Dean glanced over at Lee’s dark home, biting his lip.

 

******************

 

“Well, Thorin, King Under the Mountain, can certainly handle doing another take, don’t you think so?” Lee glanced serenely over at Richard. “After all, he thinks he’s so special.”

Peter sighed. Ever since Lee had returned, he’d been at Richard’s throat. A remark here, a nuance there, avoiding the Englishman in any social gatherings. It was driving the rest of them nuts. He’d tried to talk to his new brother about it, but all Richard said was that he didn't want to talk about it.

“I don’t think I’m special,” Richard growled out. “We can do another take if you’d like, but I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“So you’re saying that how I was in that scene was all I was capable of?” Lee asked

Peter shook his head. “Please don’t answer that, please don’t answer that. Richard, dammit, shut the hell up.” He muttered to himself.

“I think the scene was fine,” Richard answered.

Peter was pretty sure that was the wrong answer. Not that a right answer had existed, but still. “Guys, why don’t we take a break?”

“I don’t need one,” Richard frowned at Peter.

“Then neither do I,” Lee glared at them.

“I think you both do,” Peter sighed. “And I really, really need one right now.”

“Why?” Richard scowled at the short Kiwi.

Fran had approached the group in the meantime, armed with a rolled-up script and a glare to match Richard’s. “Because the set’s gone up ten degrees in the last three minutes. Any warmer in here and we’ll be able to grill on the weapons rack. We’re taking a break.” She pointed the rolled-up script at Richard. “Try not to burn the place down.” She shoo’ed them off and followed Richard just to make sure.

“I don’t understand it, they were such good friends before Lee left.” Martin wandered up as Fran left.

“They really need to talk to each other, I think.” Peter sighed

“Says the God of Messages,” Martin said quietly, rolling his eyes.

Peter laughed. “How d’you think I’ve managed keep Fran all this time? Just saying, I know my stuff. Communication is key to any relationship.”

“All right, God of Messages, HOW do we get them to talk to one another?”

“Shove them in closet and lock the door?”

“Richard will sneeze, accidentally set it on fire, and then Lee will be dead. No. Second choice?” Martin laughed.

Peter wrinkled his nose. “I hadn’t gotten that far.”

That evening, Dean was surprised to open his door and find Martin on the steps.

“Is Richard here?” Martin asked quietly, looking excitedly around him. Dean could see James and Mark, and he had a feeling they weren’t the only ones waiting outside.

“Isn’t he always here? I’m never going to get laid.” Dean sighed.

“Ah, good.” Martin didn’t explain as he shoved past Dean. Others followed, first James and Mark (who were laden with beer and other snacks), followed by Graham, Peter, and… Lee? “Where do I put the beer?”

“We like free beer,” Aidan commented. “But why are you here?”

As Aidan asked, Lee caught sight of Richard, reading at the dining table, and tried to beat a hasty retreat. Graham blocked the door, grinned, and crossed his arms. Lee would have to go through him if he wanted out. Lee may have been tall and wasn't scrawny in the muscle department, but Graham was a very good match. The American wasn’t going to leave the trailer without more than a few bruises. Lee decided valor was the better part of honor and sat down on the couch.

“We’re holding a party, a welcome party for Lee.” Peter explained.

“He’s been here a week,” Dean glanced over the snacks, trying to be covert about his interest.

“But we hadn’t held a party yet,” Martin argued.

Well, they just proved that they certainly weren’t Gods of logic. Whoever had the idea of ‘let’s get most of the Gods to make Richard talk to Lee’ had either been drunk or an idiot. Or both. The fact that the others were all going ALONG with it made it all the more painful for Dean and Aidan to watch. As Martin shoved some of the cans of beer into the fridge, Richard signed and put his book away, he wasn’t going to be getting anymore reading done tonight.

“And they call us stupid,” Aidan shook his head.

“No, I think they beat us at it. They’ve had more practice.” Dean sat back down on his couch, pulling Aidan close.

“Did he just call us ‘old’?” James asked as he manhandled Richard into the front area to sit with the rest of them. He managed to get Richard in the room, but Richard refused to sit. Both Richard and Lee crossed their arms and refused to acknowledge the other’s existence.

“Yeah, we did.” Dean smirked.

“Because you ARE,” Aidan added.

“Young things think they know everything. Well, you don’t know HALF of what we do.” Mark laughed.

“Of course they don’t know everything, that’s why they have to go to lessons. Speaking of which, if you try to skip out on your cooking lesson again I will force you to make and eat haggis.” Graham plopped himself down in a spare chair and cracked a beer. “Now, that might not scare Aidan, but I’m pretty sure Dean wants to avoid it.”

“You’re evil,” Dean smirked. “Just for that, you have to give me a beer.”

“I’ll get it,” Richard said quickly. He maneuvered himself around the rest of them, anything to get away from the room and the tall American in it. Mark reached for him, trying to make him go back to the living area, but Richard darted away… and slammed his elbow on the corner of the wall in the process. “Fucking hell that HURT!”

Cheery little flames burst up from the coffee table, merrily spreading their warmth over those that sat nearby

Lee jumped back, away from the table, and wound up standing on the couch. “What the hell? Fire!”

Just a few months ago, Dean and Aidan would been right with Lee in panicking at the sight of fire. Now, Dean calmly got up, took the fire extinguisher from the counter, and sprayed the flames until they died out. “Could you NOT do that in my trailer? Stupid coffee tables are the first to go, that’s the third bloody one. You’re buying the next one.” He sounded more like his furniture was being set on fire was an inconvenience than a life-threatening circumstance.

“Zero days without an accident,” Aidan muttered. “Grab me a beer while you’re up, Deano?” He gave his lover a pleading look. Dean retrieved a beer for his poor alcohol-deprived Aidan.

“Did nobody notice we just had a FIRE in here?” Lee asked, pointing at the charred coffee table.

The room fell silent. One word was on everyone’s mind. ‘Crap’.

Aidan took his beer from Dean as Dean sat back down. The Irishman was the first to speak. “Happens every time he hurts himself. Or sneezes. Or gets in heavy traffic. It stopped being scary ages ago. Stopped being funny, too.” He cracked his beer and took a long gulp.

Lee rose to leave. “I’ve had it with you people. It’s not funny, it never was.”

It was Peter that grabbed Lee, stopping him from leaving. “You and Richard need to talk. So that’s what we’re doing. Ignore the random fires, all right?”

“Oh, because you think it’s funny that Richard thinks he's a God of Fire?” Lee struggled with Peter. Why did they drag him here? "I'm nobody's fool!"

The room went silent again. Finally, Aidan raised his arms up in a victory pose. “I didn’t let the secret slip this time! Wicked!” Dean rubbed his temples. The others all turned to Richard, who was holding a cold beer to his abused elbow.

“I might have said something at dinner the other night…” Richard looked reproached. “Look, I didn’t want Lee to get into a… heavier friendship with me without knowing that things tend to get set on fire around me! He thought I was trying to run him off and….”

Peter nodded. “That’s perfectly understandable. Lee, I hate to tell you this, but you’re the one who’s misunderstood the situation... Richard’s telling the truth.”

“Oh, and I suppose you conjure puppies!” Lee shouted at them.

“Nah, that’s Graham.” Aidan shrugged. “Speaking of, I want one for my birthday. Something fuzzy.”

“I’ve seen your trailer. You barely can take care of yourself. No.” Graham chuckled.

Lee sat back down on the couch, eyes wide as he stared at Richard. “Wait, you mean….” He pointed at Graham.

Richard took the beer away from his elbow and went to the fridge for the ice pack he knew was still in there. “Yes, they’re serious. That’s about as normal as conversation gets around here.” He brought back a beer for Lee, a peace offering. “Meet my brothers, Apollo and Hermes.” Richard pointed at Martin and Peter. “Dionysus is in America right now.”

Lee took the beer from Richard. He cracked it, turned it up, and emptied the contents down his throat. “Explain. Everything.”

Dean laughed. “I am VERY glad that it’s not my job to tell Zeus about this.”

 

*******************************

Simon had been forced to leave to work on another project, but he was still on the ‘Athena Counsel’ in spirit and digital presence, if not in flesh. He'd called a conference, and it wasn’t good news. All of the Gods, including Richard and Liz, where crammed into Ian's trailer to listen.

“Aphrodite’s on the move. We’ve got three minor Gods: Pothos, Himeros, and Adikia; all of them have left L.A..” Simon said over the speakerphone.

Ian frowned. Two of the four Erotes (all of which were beholden to Aphrodite), and the Goddess of injustice. Not good. “They’ve got their passports and left on a westward flight. I can’t get any better information that that. It sounds like they’re headed your way.”

“Aphrodite’s not coming, then?” Peter asked.

“Not as far as I know,” Simon answered. “I think she’s still digging to find Athena in the Americas. She could have bumped into a clue, but I think she’s as far behind Athena as the rest of us are. We’re lucky our girl is so clever. Aphrodite gets a hold of Athena while she’s still thinking she’s bonkers, and it’s game over. All she has to do is lure her in with a man that promises her the sky, then have him ditch her, possibly even stage a rape. Aphrodite’ll be there to pick up and pieces, keep her close, and all she has to do is wait until Athena goes insane. Aphrodite reports the murder, and Athena’s locked away, just like Hera“

“Athena can figure out a trap when she sees one,” Martin argued.

“Not when it comes to matters of the flesh, she can’t. Hephaestus tricked her, remember?” James argued. “She’s naïve when it comes to all that. Men confuse her.”

“He has a point, men can do some highly unintelligent things. There’s the ‘hold my beer and watch this’ syndrome that young men have.” Fran acknowledged with an evil smirk.

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” Simon countered over the speaker. “Seriously, though, I’m with Jimmy on this one. Is there anything we can do to liven up our bait a bit? Something, anything?”

“Only thing we can do is more press conferences, commercials, be loud and do it often.” Peter sighed. “I can make an announcement for the theatrical release date, but we’re not quite done filming yet. And I don’t even know if it’ll bring her out of the woodwork. She hasn’t turned up yet.”

“That American professor, the one who we think met Athena, do you still have his name?” Ian asked. Peter nodded. It would be in a file, somewhere, with all the other on-site guests. “See if we can contact him. Perhaps a better description of her, maybe even a photo if she was in any associations while in college.”

“No photos, none that he was aware of.” Peter sighed. “I already tried that.”

“Try again.” Ian insisted. “We need to up our game. Pull out all the stops. See if we can release some of the behind-the-scenes footage, do press conferences, make allusions to her, get her attention somehow! The faster we flush her out, the sooner the boys will be out of danger!” He slammed his fist on his table.

Silence reigned. Finally, “I felt that all the way in California.”

“Thank you, Dionysus, for the distraction.” Mark muttered.

Fran leaned over and took Ian’s hands in her own. “We’ll do what we can, Zeus. We’ll find her. We’ll keep the boys safe.” Ian gave her a short nod then excused himself, leaving the room. The other Gods sat at the table until they were sure he was out of earshot. “

Zeus never gets this worked up.” Graham said quietly. “You don’t think….”

Simon answered. “He’s already adopted Anextiomarus. He’s becoming extremely attached to the two boys. It could be old age or it could be…there are things we don’t know about all this. Only the Fates know it.”

“I’m not inclined to ask the Fates,” Martin snapped.

“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” Richard asked Simon through the speakerphone.

“Zeus doesn’t like to get attached to mortals. It makes him very upset, when they die. Last time, during Lord of the Rings, he was friendly with the mortals, but he didn’t attach himself to them very much.” Simon explained.

“He seemed to get on with Elijah,” Richard argued.

“Elijah was young, he reminded Zeus of a child.” Fran explained. “Still, Ian didn’t get this attached to Elijah. He’s as worried about those two boys as he is Athena.”

Simon coughed over the speaker.“You still need to keep the Aphrodite’s gang off set. I’ve got photos of each, I’ll send them to you. I’ll also see if I can feed some of Aphrodite’s people some false information, lead them on a goose chase. By the way, you know I’m not a blasted spy, right?”

“You're the best we've got," Martin tried to cheer his brother up. They heard Simon huff over the speaker.

"Like I said, I’ll do what I can.” They heard a click, and the line went dead.

“Meeting adjourned?” Fran asked. Nods came from around the room. The Gods filed out, each heading back to their homes or offices. Upon reaching his trailer, Martin found his soothing music collection and popped a pair of headphones on. He leaned back in his chair, focusing on the two boys who were probably out drinking at a pub at that very moment. Them and Athena. What he wouldn’t give for a vision or two.

 

*************

 

Peter had called the American professor about his student, but the best description he got was ‘average height, dark brown hair, quiet, and very intelligent’. It had simply been too many years. Simon had sent them all the photos of the three Gods supposedly either on route or already in New Zealand, and they all saved the photos to their cell phones – with the exception of Richard, who had to get Martin to do it for him. What was with that God and technology?

Martin hadn’t been able to come up with any good visions. There had been one of Aidan wearing a red coat, another of Dean tripping over what looked to be a goat, and another of them together at a pub with American football on the televisions. No help there. When he had focused on Athena, all he got was embroidery, an American superhero bookmark inside a copy of the Hobbit, textbooks, and a toy chariot. All which were sitting on a computer desk. Even less help, it was all things they already knew she loved. There had been a disturbing vision of blood and metal, but it was too disjointed for Martin to make it out. He’d have to try again later, on that vision.

In the meantime, Aidan and Dean were having the time of their lives. The next break they had, Dean insisted on going up to see his parents and taking Aidan with him. Unfortunately, that was where Ian put his foot down. With the threat of not one, but three possible assassins out there, he refused to let the two of them go alone. Richard volunteered himself and Lee, but even the two of them weren’t enough, in Ian’s opinion. Ian demanded to go with. And an old, stubborn, powerful God always got his way.

The flight was typical; Aidan dozed in and out, curled up with a blanket and Dean’s arm. Ian had the aisle seat, and took the opportunity to tell several Greek tales to anyone who would listen – he had half the cabin enthralled. Richard and Lee were behind the three of them, doing Gods-knew-what. At least they had clothes on. Occasionally, Richard would hum what he called a ‘traveling song’, which was either an old pub song or a rendition of ‘Greensleeves’. Dean decided he hated ‘Greensleeves’. When they finally got to the Auckland airport, Dean picked up their rental van and navigated to his parents home.

By the time he’d gotten there, Dean was certain he’d gone insane.

He was never so happy to pull into his parents driveway.

“Mum! Dad!” Dean grinned as they came out the door to greet their son. He hugged them both. “This is Aidan, I’ve told you about him.”

“Ah, your boyfriend. Nice to finally meet you, Aidan.” Dean mother smiled as she gave the young man a hug. “You’re taking care of my boy, right?” Dean’s father stood off to the side, watching carefully.

 Aidan blinked the sleep away from his eyes and hugged Dean’s mother back. “Definitely, Mrs. O’Gorman.”

Dean’s mother laughed. “You’re dating my son, you get to call me Vicki. Let’s get you inside, I think you need to go back to sleep.” She’d wrapped an arm around the Irishman and was pulling him towards the house when Ian opened the van door and climbed out. She jumped, startled, but caught herself quickly. “Hello?”

Ian gave Mrs. O’Gorman his best smile. “My apologies, I’m Ian McKellen. Dean’s been a delight at the studio, he’s almost like a grandson to me. I wanted to come with and meet his parents.”

Dean’s parents both beamed at that, they’d long been fans of Ian’s. “I’m Lance,” Dean’s father reached out to the old God to shake his hand.

“Just call me Ian,” the old man grinned. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m afraid I made someone else come with, my son, Richard.”

Upon hearing his name, Richard clambered out of the van and gave the O’Gormans a polite nod. “Hello. My father didn’t want to come alone, his health isn’t well. I am sorry if I impose on you.” Vicki and Lance stared between Ian and Richard. Dean had to refrain from rubbing his temples. What the hell was Ian up to? Richard continued. “Before you ask, I was adopted.”

“Isn’t the one playing Thorin named Richard?” Lance asked Dean. Dean winced and nodded.

“That would be me,” Richard confirmed.

“Oh, I see…” Vicki looked confused. “Well, I have something I can heat up for you to eat… Are there any more unexpected guests in there?” She peered at the vehicle.

“Just Lee,” Dean sighed. Lee took that as his cue to leave the van. “He came with Richard. I’m so sorry, I know I should have told you before, but I… uh….”

Vicki shook Lee’s hand and gave her son a look. “Hello, Lee. Come in. Dean, you… didn’t call about the extra guests? Your mobile’s not working? You didn’t leave it behind again, did you?”

“He does that to you, too, hm?” Ian grinned.

 “You have NO idea,” Vicki affirmed, motioning her guests inside. She gave her son a glare as she followed his friends inside.

Dean was fairly certain he wanted to crawl into a hole.

 

*********************

 

“Then, out of nowhere, this fire starts, fooosh!” Aidan did an impression of the fire, waving his arms about wildly. “Richard shoves me and Lee out the door and then makes Jimmy get Dean, it was just all chaos!” He settled back in his chair and ate a mouthful of the leftovers Vicki had set out.

Dean’s parents glared their son. “You didn’t tell us about that,” Vicki scolded.

Dean swallowed his stewed tomato and gave Aidan a look. “It wasn’t as interesting as Aidan’s making it out to be, really, Mum. It was just a little electrical fire.”

“Little? We all almost got roasted alive.” Lee laughed.

“Can we talk about something else?” Dean begged.

 Vicki looked across the table at her son. “Sounds like you’ve had some adventures since you went to work on that movie.”

‘More than some,’ Dean thought. Out loud, he said “It’s just filming, Mum. Crazy stuff happens. This is a huge production, you wouldn’t believe half the stuff that's happened.” That was true. “They’re making it out to be bigger than it was.” That wasn’t true. He silently pleaded with the Gods – NOT the ones sitting at the dinner table – that nobody would bring up the time he got shot. He had… forgotten to mention that to his parents. Richard was already practically living in his trailer, he didn’t need his parents to follow suit.

Luck was with him, after dinner was done and the plates were cleared, the topic turned to Dean’s war photos. His mother talked him into the pulling out the prints he had with him, and everyone took a look at them. The elder O’Gorman both gawked and criticized his son’s work, pointing out tiny flaws while still waxing on about how proud he was. Everyone who wasn’t an artist just gawked.

“Wow, those are….” Aidan gaped at the sight before him. Graham looked like a grizzled veteran (which he was, just not of the Vietnam war), Adam looked like a fresh recruit heading off unknowingly to his death, Luke looked like a soldier who’d lost all hope, and Aidan managed to look like someone who had just lost his innocence. There were others in the shoot, several scenes as well, but Aidan was staring at the photos of him and his friends.

“I think they look like a real battlefield,” Richard agreed. “Incredible. They really bring war to life; it’s frightening, almost.” He took a deep breath. “You spent a lot of time planning this, it shows.” He set them down and looked away. He’d died during the Vietnam War, as an British aid worker who'd been caught up in a bombing; those were some memories he didn’t want to remember.

The blonde looked down and blushed. “Thanks.”

“What will you do with ‘em?” Ian asked. Dean shrugged. He hadn’t thought of that. He’d just wanted to get the idea out of his head and onto film.

“You should show them off somewhere! Let people know how good you are!” Aidan suggested eagerly.

“I agree. They may need some work, but an exhibition would be good.” Lance looked thrilled as the prospect. “I have a gallery I can suggest, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, Dad, but I don’t think they’re good enough for that. It’s all set and design.”

“I think you should exhibit them.” Richard agreed. “I mean, really, you got THIS little demon to look innocent.” He shoved at Aidan. Lee, still captivated by the images, nodded in agreement.

Aidan continued. “They’re of war, right? You might just get the attention of a certain lady with these, she liked war.” Aidan pointed out. “She might like these.”

Ian shook his head. “She likes strategic war, the Vietnam war was anything but. Though you might be right about her liking them, it shows the horrors of what can happen if warfare is not planned out. Like watching a train wreck.” He closed his eyes, pushing away old memories. War was never easy. “Either way, Aidan is right, you shouldn’t just tuck these away and forget about them.”

Vicki leaned over and gave her son a kiss on the head. “You do what you want to with them, but I’m with your friends on this. I think they’re great.”

Dean looked down at the photos spread across the table. Portraits, scenes, they all told a story. He was grateful that veteran had told him all those stories, and was glad he had taken a portrait of the old man as well. His father was right, some of the photos were merely okay, but others were spectacular. Maybe he should show them off a bit.

 

*************************************

 

After the meal, Ian was shown to the guest bedroom, Dean took Aidan to his old bedroom, and Richard and Lee wound up on the pull-out bed in the sofa. Dean was surprised his mother didn’t try to separate him and Aidan, but then, he was an adult.

Aidan rolled over in the small bed in Dean’s old room. “I like your Mum. She’s nice.”

“She fed you, that’s why you like her.” Dean wrapped his arms around the Irishman and gave him a quick kiss on the collarbone.

“Mmmmm,” Aidan squirmed a bit. “Feeding me is beside the point. I still like her. I think your Dad hates me, though.”

“He’s more reserved,” Dean explained. “He likes it better when I bring home a girlfriend than a boyfriend.”

“I’m not the first?” Aidan tried to sound indignant.

Dean smirked and ran his hands down Aidan’s side and back up underneath the t-shirt Aidan was wearing. “You’re the most important, though.”

“Hmph, flattery.” Aidan arched a bit into Dean’s touch. “You realize we do NOT have enough room in this bed for that, right?”

“That’s why I like teasing,” Dean murmured. “We’ll be at my house tomorrow. My bed is bigger.”

“Good.”

The next morning, Dean’s mother had made them a breakfast of eggs, mushrooms, and sausage. Lee protested the use of mushrooms in breakfast food until Richard reminded him that he was a guest. The American took all the mushrooms on his plate and slyly slid them to Richard’s when he wasn’t looking.

They went to Dean’s home, Dean’s parents promising to visit and bring food for dinner. Apparently they knew their son’s cooking abilities, even though he protested that he had gotten better.

This left them to fend for themselves for lunch. They watched a game of football – proper football, not that travesty of rugby that Lee called football, then decided they were hungry. Dean had no food in his home, save a few tins of this and that, so Ian decided it would be best to go out to eat.

“Ian’s paying!” Aidan cheerfully declared.

“If I’m paying, I get to pick the place.” Ian asserted. Aidan shrugged and let Ian sit in the front of the van, giving the old God his spot next to Dean. Ian deserved it. Aidan took up residence in the seat right behind Dean, and kicked Dean’s seat on purpose as he got in. Ian left the boys to their silliness. As they started down the road, Ian thought out loud. “Something with good food. Nothing French. Preferably owner-operated. With pub food. I miss pub food.” Ian said as they pulled to a stop at a 4-way intersection.

That was Ian’s last thought before there was a crunch of metal, the feeling of pain, and darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Richard should have just taken Lee to McDonald's...
> 
> Remember, comments and constructive criticism are ALWAYS welcome! So, please, tell me what you think!


	15. Himeros and Carson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the short chapter, we had a major component of a program go down at work this week, and I wound up working over 50 hours while we were getting it fixed. Unfortunately, this cut into my writing time.
> 
> Stupid computers.
> 
> This is mostly a simple, fun chapter.
> 
> *I went back and re-read this chapter, and noticed that THREE WHOLE PARAGRAPHS were missing. I'm not even sure how that HAPPENED. The paragraphs have been replaced and the chapter should make sense, now.

Richard wasn’t sure what had happened. All he knew is that his mobile phone had gone off, he’d reached to answer it, and then the car had jolted jaggedly to the side and stopped. The side where Ian sat had been caved in and a little blue car was resting at an angle to the van. Wait, no, part of it was in the van. They’d been hit. Someone had gotten out of the little blue car.

Richard’s instincts screamed ‘danger!’

Richard knew to trust his instincts.

Using every bit of strength in his body and some that came from magic, Richard forced the door to the van open. The door was misshapen, caved in slightly, and didn’t want to slide. Richard managed to push the door out, off the tracks and into the street. With the door open, he could see the person coming towards them.

He recognized the person from a photo on his mobile. One of Aphrodite’s minions. Richard saw red.

Before Lee, dazed from the wreck, could stop him, Richard was out of the van and had lunged at the man from the blue car. Fists flew, hitting their target repeatedly, bloodying the other God. Richard felt heat, but didn’t bother to look for the source. The Tribal God wasn’t even sure what he was doing, all he knew is that he had to stop this God from getting to his tribe. His father, his boys, his lover. His family. Nothing was going to stop him from protecting them. This God had tried to kill them. Maybe even succeeded. There would be no mercy.

At least, that was the plan.

Richard felt himself being pulled away from the other God, strong hands tugging at him. He turned to swing at whoever would dare stop him.

His fist connected with Lee's chest.

Lee took the hit, recoiled and coughed, then lunged at him again. “Richard, stop, you’re going to kill him!” Lee shouted, grabbing at the Englishman’s limbs again. “He’s unconscious! Leave him alone! Ian, Ian needs our help!”

Ian. The car had hit Ian’s door. Richard stared down at the unmoving, bloodied God on the street, then back at Lee. He spat at the God and went back to the van.

Dean was standing just outside the van, cradling one arm close his chest and on the phone with the paramedics. He had blood smeared on his shirt, but didn’t appear to have any cuts. Aidan was standing on the bonnet of the blue car and trying to reach inside Ian’s window while answering the questions Dean was relaying from the paramedics. Tears mixed with blood were running down Aidan’s cheeks as he begged Ian to talk to him.

Ian didn’t respond.

Richard removed Aidan from the bonnet of the blue car, saying something about the engine being a hazard. He wasn’t really sure. Aidan shouted Ian’s name and kicked Richard, but the newly minted Fire God didn’t care. He handed the Irishman over to Dean, and Aidan latched onto the free part of Dean’s uninjured arm. Dean whispered soothing things to him in between talking to the authorities, and Aidan narrowed his entire world to just his lover. Richard gave Lee a once-over – he didn’t look injured, they’d thankfully been in the back seat, and then went around to the driver side, climbing in so he could check on Ian.

There was a pulse. It was barely there, but Richard could find it. Ian was bleeding, but it wasn’t arterial. At the sight of the blood, Richard had to swallow and remind himself that beating their attacker to death wouldn’t help Ian. He forced the rage down. It wasn’t easy, and he knew he’d set the blue car on fire in the process. Just as Aidan’s world had narrowed to Dean, Richard’s narrowed to Ian and Lee. Every word Lee said, Richard held onto. Every gasping breath Ian made, Richard watched. His tribe, his FAMILY. He did what he could for Ian, applying pressure to the worst of the wounds. He didn’t dare move the older man. In the background, he could hear Lee finally talking to the paramedics that had arrived.

He could recall someone gently moving him out of the driver seat and shining a light in his eyes, then talking to him. He knew that someone was talking to Aidan, Dean, and Lee, and he went over to Lee and wrapped an arm around the American's shoulders, worry for his lover taking over; just because he couldn’t see any injuries didn’t mean there weren’t any. Lee recoiled a bit and his breath hitched, but he wrapped an arm around Richard. "Don't worry about me." Lee told him.

Together, they watched as the medics removed Ian carefully from the van, placed him on a gurney, and put him in the back of an ambulance. They all knew the paramedics were worried – with Ian’s age, the older actor might not live.

Another ambulance took the God laying on the ground, and Richard knew the paramedics were whispering about him. The police arrived, looking grim.

Richard watched as the blue car burned.

 

********************

 

When Peter, Fran, and the rest of the Gods had finally arrived at the hospital a few hours later, they found Dean and Aidan sitting together between Dean’s parents, holding each other as much as they could. Both looked like they’d been crying, Aidan had a large bandage and some stitches just below his hairline, and Dean’s arm had a bright pink cast on it. Lee was sitting on a hospital gurney, babying his bandaged ribs (he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on) and staring off into space. Richard had been handcuffed to the chair he was sitting in, hands bandaged and a few stitches on his arms. An officer who was obviously supposed to keep an eye on the actor was standing nearby, but the man – Carson, according to his badge - looked more like he was siding with Richard on the whole thing. At the very least, he wasn’t glaring at Richard like he was a criminal.

The aide that came by wouldn’t let them see Ian.

“But, we’re FAMILY!” Martin argued angrily. “You have to let us!”

“I tried that,” Richard murmured from his chair. “Nobody in. They’re prepping him for surgery.”

“Not even his own SONS?” Peter demanded. “I have power of attorney for emergencies, don’t I? Or you do you have it right now?” He looked at Martin. Martin shook his head. “If Martin doesn’t have it, then I do. You have to let me see him. Or Martin. Let Martin see him!” If they could get Martin in there, he could patch up the worst injuries; stack the odds in Ian’s favor.

As the poor aide tried to explain to Peter and Martin that nobody was going supposed to go in, Graham wandered over to Lee and Richard, taking a seat opposite of the Dwarven King. Carson gave Graham a nod and a tight smile. “This looks like a family thing. You know, I think my friend here needs coffee. I’ll go find some.” The officer wandered off, leaving them alone.

Graham poked at the handcuffs. “Do I want to know?”

“I beat the shit out of Himeros. At least, I think he’s Himeros. I can’t remember which one’s which.” Richard said quietly. Lee glanced at him and laid back down on the gurney so he could place his hand on Richard’s shoulder. “I’ve been arrested for assault. They’re not taking me in until after Ian comes out of surgery.”

“Sounds like they really don’t want to arrest you,” Graham said quietly.

“They don’t, Himeros had a gun on him when they brought him to the hospital, that alone makes my statement credible. This is a formality. Himeros is unconscious, so they can’t get his statement. There weren’t even any skid marks, you know.” Richard sniffed a bit. He wasn’t going to cry, but damn it all, this whole thing was getting to him. “I told them I thought Himeros was going to hurt us; that he was trying to kill us.”

“I think they believe it,” Graham gave Richard a sad smile. “Martin said he saw it. Too late, though. He tried to call…” He glanced at the lads. “Richard, if you hadn’t done that…I don’t want to think about the other outcome.”

“You knew the guy?” Lee asked quietly, looking down at Richard. Richard jumped a bit, it was the first time Lee has spoken since he’d been handcuffed to the chair.

“Only by name,” Richard whispered. “He’s a danger, a threat, to everyone at the Studio.” He watched as an angry Peter was pulled away from the aide by Fran, the poor woman looked like she’d given in and let Martin see Ian. She held the door open and watched the hallway intently. That was a relief. “He’s a threat to my family.” Lee looked content at that, and he settled back and closed his eyes. “Is Simon on the way?” Richard asked.

Graham nodded. “And Patrick. Christopher can’t come, and we can’t get a hold of Fille, ah, Artemis. Or Hercules. I wish their missing sister was here.” He moved his chair next to Richard. “You’ve all been checked out, right?”

Richard glanced around him. “Aidan has a several lacerations from the glass, all stitched up and he’s been given topical anesthetics. Dean broke his arm against the steering wheel when we were hit, but no other issues. Lee… has a cracked rib and two other bruised ones. He’s supposed to be resting right now, but he refused to go to his room. They’ve given him some very good painkillers.” That explained the dazed look Lee had. “That’s my fault. I was in a rage… and I hit him. I didn’t mean to!”

“We all know you’d never hurt someone you cared about intentionally,” Graham shifted in his chair. “It’s not in your nature, as a… Tribal. Are you all right?”

“Slight concussion.” Richard admitted. “I’m supposed to be resting, too. I’m not sure I got it during the accident or if Himeros fought back and I got it then. I don’t remember much of it.” He stopped the tears that were threatening to well up. Stupid tears.

Graham couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he visually checked Richard over. Sure enough, Richard had a bit of a dazed look about him, too. The concussion probably wasn’t ‘light’ at all, but Graham wasn’t a medical professional. He distracted himself by looking around, taking in their surroundings. They’d been given a private area, being movie stars had their perks, but the chairs were all those standard uncomfortable things and the place smelled of antiseptic and medicine. A far cry from medicine thousands of years ago. Studying the human body and making everyone comfortable had done wonders for medicine. Graham wondered briefly if statistics showed that people who had loving family got better faster. He’d like to think so. “You know what Athena would say, if she were here? She’d give us all sorts of statistics on car accidents. Survival rates, injuries, how often they happen, everything. Well, not everything. She’d keep certain things to herself, anything that would make the situation look worse. That would be how she’d try to cheer us up. All sorts of statistics in Ian’s favor.”

“I think I’d like to meet my sister,” Richard gave Graham a small smile. “I could use that right now.”

“So could I,” Graham nodded.

Martin slipped back out of the room, giving his thanks to the aid and signing her notepad for her as just as Carson was returning with coffee for both Richard and himself. The officer settled back into his chair and stared at the new arrivals. “You don’t all look much like family.”

“It’s…. complicated.” Graham admitted. “We all become family on the set, we’re the only ones we have here.” Carson gave a slight nod and sipped his coffee. The answer was good enough for him.

They all sat there, quiet, waiting. Vicki and Lance O’Gorman introduced themselves, but said nothing else. Vicki wouldn’t let go of Dean’s hand, as if something would would happen if she took her eyes off her boy. Aidan had Dean’s other, bright pink hand, cuddled close to his lover, and Lance simply watched them quietly from his spot next to Aidan, occasionally squeezing Aidan’s hand when the youngest got too restless.

It was well into the night before Carson’s cell phone rang. He muttered something into it, grinned, and hung up. He bent down and released Richard’s hand from the cuffs. “CCTV shows the guy you beat waiting at that intersection for an hour before you showed up. Looks like your self-defense plea is accepted, charges are being dropped. Mind if I step away to put these on our attempted murderer? He’s got another officer watching him, but I want the satisfaction of doing it myself. I’ll be back, as your protection, this time. I’ll get more coffee.” He waved the handcuffs at them. Richard nodded gratefully at the officer.

Nobody left, not even the O’Gormans. Carson returned, bringing donuts and coffee for them, sitting down with them as though he was part of their strange family. Most of them nursed their coffee and Aidan ate more than his fair share of donuts. Lee drifted off, a victim of his painkillers. Aidan dozed in and out, his habit of sleeping everywhere finally catching up to him. 

Finally, around ten p.m., the surgeon came out, followed by Liz, who’d wormed her way into the operating room by informing them that she was his primary care doctor. The surgeon explained that Ian may have been old, but he was breathing on his own and had a steady heart rate. He wasn’t out of the woods, but it was looking better than the first diagnosis.

“You can see him. Two at a time.” The surgeon said.

“Three,” Liz said quietly. “Let three of them go. Please.” The surgeon frowned, but nodded.

Martin, Peter, and Fran went in first, staying for around ten minutes. Fran talked to Ian, unsure if he could hear her or not. Peter and Martin stayed silent, but Peter kept dabbing at his eyes with his sleeves. Martin quickly put his hands on Ian, letting power flow for a second attempt to speed up the recovery process. The Head of the Thrones of Olympus never woke.

When the three Gods left, they insisted Dean and Aidan be in the next group. Richard went with them. After they closed the door behind them, Richard wandered to the head of the bed and brushed some hair away from Ian’s face. “I went crazy out there. I almost killed that man.” He said quietly. “He attacked my family. Until that very second, I hadn’t truly thought of the other Gods as family. I just saw Himeros and went into a rage.”

“That’s the second time you called the driver that,” Dean said. “You know him?”

“Aphrodite is apparently on the move, she sent three other Gods to New Zealand. Simon sent me a picture. He was one of them. I just… I knew he was going to try to kill you boys.” Richard explained.

Aidan shivered and Dean hugged him close. “We’re safe, Aid. We’re safe.” Dean murmured at him. “And look, Ian’s going to be okay, too. I’m sure Martin patched him up.”

Aidan nodded and rested his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder. “Y’know after all the stupid things we’ve done – trees and barrels and aeroplanes and fires – we nearly get killed in a stupid accident. If I hadn’t let Ian take the front…”

“Don’t think about that. I think Ian is glad that he took the front.” Richard bent and squeezed Ian’s hands, saying something in a language neither young man could understand.

“What was that?” Aidan asked.

“An old saying, back from when I was first born. ‘May the stars guide you back, may we rejoice in your return.’ It was usually used for travelers, but it feels right to use it here.” Richard smiled down at Ian. “He’ll be all right. He’s tough, aren’t you?”

 

*******************

 

Vicki took her husband, Dean, and Aidan back to her home soon after Ian came out of surgery. Sometime around 3am Carson finally drifted off, and Peter woke him with a gentle shake, a verbal and very nice monetary ‘thank you for protecting us’, and an offer that if he ever needed a job, Stone Street Studios would certainly hire him. They’d all been well aware that he’d been off-shift for ages.

The Gods stayed, waiting it out. Lee was dragged back to his proper room by Richard, who planted a soft kiss on Lee's forehead and stayed by the American's bedside from then on. The others sat nervously, trying to distract themselves and failing. Graham’s thoughts wandered to smashing in the head of the God who was handcuffed to a bed on another floor, but instead he busied himself with reading every magazine in their waiting room.

The sun rose, and there had been no change. Simon and Patrick still hadn’t arrived, but they’d gotten a text saying that Simon was on a layover and he hoped to be there that afternoon. Dean and Aidan returned, looking like they’d gotten very little sleep. Lee finally woke enough to insist they move his gurney back into the waiting area, and Richard sat on the foot of Lee’s bed as Lee fell prey to his pain medication again.

Somewhere around lunchtime, a nurse rushed in, followed by another. Martin got up to see what was going on – if Ian went into cardiac arrest, Martin would be his best chance.

Ian wasn’t in cardiac arrest.

Ian was awake, albeit not sitting up on his own, and scowling at the nurses. He spotted Martin, then pointed at the nurses. “They won’t tell me. Is everyone all right?” He asked. Martin nodded, wiping tears of joy away from his face. “Good,” Ian said. “Now, tell them the best way for me to get better is to give me fish and chips.” He demanded weakly.

Martin poked his head out the door and motioned for everyone to come in. “He’s going to be fine.”

 

************************

The hospital had declared that Ian had a ‘miraculous recovery’, and by the end of the day, he able to get up and move on his own for a short period of time. He still wasn’t being discharged, much to his annoyance. The hospital also insisted they keep Lee another day just in case – cracked ribs weren’t something to mess about with.

Richard stayed as well, raising a few eyebrows from his castmates. Aidan and Dean, who had been privy to more than one phone conversation between the two Kings while Richard was staking out their trailers, wisely kept their mouths shut. If Lee and Richard weren’t going to announce anything, they certainly weren’t going to do it for them.

Damn it all, just when Richard figured his two 'nephews' had no brain cells, they went and did something intelligent. The two were full of surprises. Richard planned to buy them at least three rounds when they next went out to the pub.

The other Gods took turns waiting at the hospital, in two’s. Vicki and Lance insisted everyone else come to their home. Peter suggested hotel rooms, but Vicki was insistent that it would only be for sleeping. Simon and Patrick arrived, only adding to the chaos.

Vicki, despite her protestations at having more guests, was in absolute heaven. After a hefty grocery-shopping trip, she insisted she cook for everyone. It became obvious that Dean didn’t inherit his ‘charcoal everything’ genes from his mother. Lance figured that since he had so many photogenic people in the house, he might as well take advantage of it. He snapped photos of everything and anything until Dean took his camera and hid it. Everyone was quite thankful.

Lee was released the next day, and Ian released the day after. They forced him into a wheelchair to leave the hospital, and then immediately transferred him to the guest bedroom upon arrival at the O’Gorman household. Everyone was kept out by a very motherly Vicki, who told them all that Ian needed rest above all else. Vicki fussed over Ian as though he was her own child, much to Ian’s exasperation and appreciation. She wouldn’t let him have a cheeseburger, but she did give him crisps and soup. It was a start.

After his dinner, Vicki finally allowed them to go into Ian’s room, and the Gods (plus Lee) dragged every chair available into the guest bedroom, giving Vicki and Lance some time with their son and his boyfriend.

“We wanted publicity,” Simon grinned. “We got it.” He handed over a copy of a Wellington newspaper. A photo of the blue car burning took up nearly the whole page with the title ‘Hobbit Actors Attacked by Crazed Fan’. “I put links to it up on my blog, it went viral hours ago. If Athena doesn’t see THAT, I don’t know what else to do.”

Ian nodded weakly. This body was getting old, tired. Martin had sped up the healing process, but he still felt like a newborn unicorn. “Good.”

“Himeros is being detained without a bond for attempted murder,” Peter added. “He’s the one who hit you. We think Aidan was the target and you two switched seats at the last minute.”

“Good,” Ian closed his eyes. “The boys are safe?”

“Completely,” Richard nodded.

“You need rest,” Fran reached over and gently tapped Ian’s forehead. A pink light glowed for a moment, and Ian’s eyes fluttered closed. “That’s it,” Fran whispered as she combed her hand through Ian’s hair. “We’ll be here as long as you need us.”

 

******************************

 

“Goal for Ireland! Jimmy, fistpump!” Aidan cheered. He and James gave one another a fistpump and gloated.

“Jimmy, you are supposed to be cheering for Greece!“ Ian protested from his place in Lance O’Gorman’s favourite chair. He tried to be intimidating, but it really didn’t work when he was dressed in a dressing gown (purchased by Patrick) and fuzzy cat slippers (purchased by Mark). He settled for ‘grumpy’ instead.

“It’s one homeland versus another! I can’t choose! I’m rooting for both!” James declared.

Meanwhile, Dean was wandering the house. He finally found was he was looking for on the back porch, drinking some water and enjoying the quiet. “Mum? Mum, how do you make a cast stop itching?”

Vicki smiled to herself. Children would always be children. “You take a wire coat hanger, unravel it, stick it down the cast, then lie to your doctor when he asks about the funny red marks when they take your cast off.”

“I tried that,” Dean sighed as he plopped down in a chair next to his mother. He leaned over and rested his head on her shoulder. “Too loud in there?”

Vicki patted her son’s shoulder. “Just letting you boys have your fun.”

“We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“Mum? Thanks.”

Vicki kissed the top of her son’s head. “You’re welcome. You know, this was supposed to be a ‘meet the boyfriend’ visit. I haven’t been able to spend much time with Aidan.”

Dean shrugged. “I'm sorry. There’ll be other visits.”

“Oh, really? He’s that special, is he?” Vicki teased, twirling a lock of her son’s blonde hair

Dean thought about that. It wasn’t just that Aidan was great to get along with or easygoing. There was so much more. Spending time with Aidan just felt right, from the moment he’d met the Irishman. They’d had a long road, and they were nowhere near the end of it, but Dean was content. Sure, they’d had a few bickering fights, usually started by Aidan’s inability to clean or Dean’s cheerfulness as what Aidan thought was an ungodly hour in the morning. Every couple had fights. It was how you got over them that mattered. So far, they’d gotten through it. “Yeah."

“Well, don’t get too excited about it! You and your father, both so excellent at communicating. How did you get to be an actor with communication skills like that?”

Dean shifted to look up at his mother. “I’ve got good looks from you?”

“Save the flattery for your boyfriend,” Vicki gave him one last kiss on his hair and stood. “Come on, let’s find you a coat hanger.”

 

****************************

The excitement on set when they returned was tangible; not only had everyone from the car accident been (relatively) safe, but Ian had returned from his hospital stay just in time to celebrate his birthday. 

Martin wheeled Ian into the canteen that night (in an office chair, as he elderly actor refused to be seen in a wheelchair unless absolutely necessary) to a surprise of a nearly the entire cast, crew, and both directors. There was cake made by Aidan and Dean (with extremely close supervision by Graham – Graham swore it was edible), a larger cake for everyone else, balloons (which they enjoyed using to hit each other) and gifts. They had been planning to sing him a happy birthday song, but no-one could agree on a version, so Mark decided that it was best he sing to Ian alone. They were all surprised to hear an angelic voice float from the comedian, hitting notes most of them couldn’t dream of. The applause echoed off the walls when he finished.

After the cake (which was, indeed, edible), came the gifts. Peter and Fran were first. They handed Ian a simple, tall bag, out of which Ian pulled a bottle of very old and very nice wine. Ian beamed. “Glasses, we need glasses!” Ian insisted.

“You’re not going to save it for a special day?” Adam asked.

“I’m old and reached another birthday. I’d say it’s special enough. Come along, someone get enough glasses, we’ll all have a taste!” Ian insisted.

“I’ll drink to that!” Patrick laughed.

Jimmy ‘found’ some glasses in a cabinet and the wine was poured into each glass, just barely enough for the cast and the directors.

“Cheers!” Ian grinned before taking a sip of his wine. Everyone lifted their glass and took a drink.

Next came the gift from Graham: a set of exquisite and tiny painted versions of the whole cast in clay. Ian was delighted. He was relieved to know that Graham had used regular kiln fire, not his ‘special’ blend of flames. It wouldn’t be good for the figures to pop to life. Martin handed over his gift, a rather large box. It wasn’t until Ian got the box open that he worked out was it was.

“A blow-up doll?” Ian raised an eyebrow.

“Simon helped me pick it out,” Martin grinned.

"Emergency use only,” Simon added.

Ian tried, and failed, to keep a straight face. “I should have known,” he laughed.

The gift from James wasn’t wrapped. Instead, he handed the lightning God a cane he’d worked on, a simple stick carved, stained, and polished to a shine. The carvings weren’t designs, but rather a story in Greek, namely, the story of how Zeus defeated the Titans. “I didn’t know what else to get you…” James said quietly.

“You made this?” Ian asked, staring at the cane.

“Well, if you want to be technical, the tree made it. I just carved it.” James grinned.

“Thank you,” Ian set the cane next to his leg and reached for the next present, which Fran said was from Liz. Unwrapping it, he found... “’Medical Terminology: A Short Course’?” He leafed through the book. “This has to be four hundred pages!”

“Trust me, it was better than her first choice. Unless you’re interested in the body’s lymphatic system.” Fran squeezed Ian’s shoulder. “At least you have something new to read.”

“I might die of boredom trying to read it,” Ian mumbled. “Don’t anyone tell Liz that!” They laughed.

More gifts came, a beautiful windchime with a glass falcon on it that shimmered no matter how you held it from Stephen, some prop golden coins from Jeb (Peter was fairly certain the Kiwi had stolen them from one of the sets), a complete and signed set of Harry Potter from Peter H. (who declared that a Wizard should know his roots), a 1800’s copy of a Tale of Two Cities from Ken, old comic books featuring Magneto from Mark, and many others.

Ian was looking tired, worn, by the time he got to Richard’s gift. “Careful,” Richard muttered. It’s breakable.” Ian pulled out what looked to be a dirty old mask spray painted in obnoxious gold. “I know it doesn’t look like much...”

“Oh, Richard… this is... this is an acting mask. Hellenstic period,” Ian said, gaping at the mask. “Richard, how did you get a hold of…”

Richard shrugged. “I have few connections.”

“Thank you,” Ian reached up and gave Richard a light hug as the tall Englishman bent down. “This had to cost a fortune.”

“You’ve given me something even more valuable, Dad.” Richard grinned as he straightened up. Ugh, they sounded like a soap-opera.

Martin nudged Richard when he returned to the crowd. “The baby of the family just HAS to be a show-off, doesn’t he?” He grinned. Richard ducked his head and coughed, hiding his grin.

Aidan and Dean were last, each with a fairly large, flat package. They sent them carefully on Ian’s lap. “They’re both… sort of from both of us. You’ll understand when you open them."

They’d chosen the brightest paper they could find, but Ian tore it off like all the rest. Inside the first package was a photo collage of all the cast and crew as they filmed, some in costume, some not. “I took the photos and Aidan picked the ones to use,” Dean explained.

“Open the next!” Aidan insisted. “That one’s better!” Ian tore the paper off to reveal a beautiful sketch of the Dwarven Company and Gandalf, except at the bottom was written different names for the Dwarves – ‘Moody, Blondy, Shooty, Eaty, Talky, No-Talky, Worry-y, Stealy, Read-y, Old-y, Killy, Stubborny, and Deafy’. Bilbo was labeled ‘Bastard’ and Gandalf was labeled ‘Dad’. At the very bottom, it read ‘Screw saving Snow White, let’s go find a Dragon!’ “Dean drew it, I picked the frame!”

“They’re both wonderful, thank you!” Ian laughed. “These will be great memories!”

After the gifts, Stephen turned on some music, playing DJ for the rest of them. Aidan and Dean danced, showing off Dean’s new skills (though they still fell over once), and Adam joined them in their chaos, dancing in his own very… distinct way. As more liquor flowed, the birthday boy slowly drifted off to sleep in his chair.

Summoning up her courage and tucking away her worry about Ian drifting off so early, Fran woke him and insisted he go to sleep in his trailer. Ian insisted he walk, that he'd been sitting for too long, so Graham helped him back, noticing Ian favored his right side.

Zeus hadn’t gotten out of the accident completely unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcome.
> 
> The birthday scene only went through two edits, so if you catch any errors, please let me know.


	16. Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Evangeline gets something she wants, a tree falls in the woods and everyone hears it, and Benedict is so excited that he drives everyone insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has two things in it that do NOT follow my normal writing pattern. One is fairly lighthearted, but the other is a very heavy topic. Due to this, the rating has changed.  
> Normally, I would not include such a heavy topic in a story, but my editor is challenging me to "come out of your comfort zone", and so the scene was included. I am VERY sorry if the content disturbs anyone. This SHOULD be the only chapter in which such an uncomfortable topic is included.
> 
> And, again, this hasn't had the third edit. So, please let me know of any errors.

“All right, that was a great take! Give it five minutes and we’ll roll again!” Andy called out.

Evangeline took a deep breath. She and Lee got on very well, and it was grating on her for Thranduil to be so cruel to Tauriel. They were fairly good friends, despite the fact that she always trumped him when they played Scrabble, and he always defeated her at Monopoly. But, when Lee returned to the set, he’d spent almost every spare moment with Richard. And half the THAT time, they’d been in Fili and Kili’s trailers. It was… disturbing.

“Darlin’ if you bite your lip, it’s going to take me forever to cover that up.” Evangeline’s newest make-up artist appeared out of nowhere. While she’d been thinking, he’d managed to set his box up and was standing in front of her with his brushes and tints. While she was an Elf, he was most certainly a Hobbit. From the moment she’d met him a week ago, Darius (‘Call me Diz’) had been a short (literally) whirlwind of energy in long jean shorts and sandals. Despite the piercings and oddly-coloured hair, Diz was literally an artist with his brushes, and she was the canvas. “Stop fidgeting. You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

“No,” Evangeline lied. Diz leaned back enough to give her a 'yeah right' look. “All right, yes.”

Diz went back to working on fixing her make-up – the hot studio lights meant that re-application was more than necessary. Especially since Elves weren’t supposed to sweat. “So, what’s the problem?” Diz asked conversationally as he worked.

“The usual,” Liz made sure she didn’t shrug. “I think Lee forgot I existed.”

“He’s just been busy, sweetie.” Diz protested. “Close your eyes.”

Evangeline did as her make-up artist demanded. "He’s been busy with Richard, all the time. We spent a lot of time together before, but now we’ve barely spoken.”

“Oh. OH!” Diz nearly fell off his box. “Sweetie… you’re jealous!”

“Am not.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Diz chuckled at her.

“Men are idiots,” Evangeline huffed.

“Yes, we are.” Diz nodded. “Part of being male. Some of us strive to overcome that disability.”

“I think Richard’s being selfish,” Evangeline stated quietly.

Diz shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “Meh, probably. So do something about it. Done with your eyes.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Evangeline blinked her eyes open and Diz started to fix the blush that made her cheeks look oh-so-Elvish.

“Well,” Diz sounded a little uncomfortable. “I don’t think you’re going to ever catch him, but you can still be friends. It’s a guy’s world, on this set. Be little bit more tomboy and you may find yourself being accepted a whole lot more. We guys like to insult each other. A lot. We also do stupid things, at least, that’s what my sister says. I’m inclined to believe her. Guys like video games, too.”

“Do straight guys like that?” Evangeline asked. It had been more than obvious to everyone that Diz was a straight as a rainbow.

“All guys do. Something about being a guy.” At Evangeline’s incredulous look, Diz put his hands on his hips. “I’ll have you know that my twin brother is straight, and he likes all that, too! Don’t discount me, I know what I’m talking about. Now, let’s fix the lips before those cameras roll again.”

A minute later, Diz had finished fixing Evangeline’s make up and the cameras were filming again. They ran through the scene, starting from ‘Why do you linger in the shadows’, all the way through. As they worked through the scene, Evangeline remembered what Diz had said.

“I do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan Elf…” Evangeline looked down, trying to be demure.

“No, you are right, l would not.” Lee strutted away. Evangeline turned, made a face, and flipped him off. She put her hand down quickly as Lee turned back. “Still, he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none.”

The crew couldn’t hold their laughter. “Stop, stop!” Andy choked out. “I can’t breathe! Oh, that was priceless!”

“What was?” Lee looked around, confused. Evangeline couldn’t hold her giggles. Andy faced a monitor at Lee and played back the last minute. “Hey! She gave me the finger!” Lee laughed. “And I didn’t even see it. You know what I should do? I should throw you in the Jacuzzi!” Lee stormed towards Evangeline and picked her up, pretending to throw her in the reflection pool in the middle of the set. “Let’s see if Elves can swim!”

“No, no, no, put me down!” Evangeline laughed. Lee obliged, then took the hits in the arm Evangeline gave him with grace and only a few winces.

“All, right, let’s start it off at ‘pledge to a lowly Silvan Elf’.” Andy called out, trying hard not to laugh. “You two talk, YOU do NOT flip the King of Mirkwood off, and then you exit.”

“Or get in the Jacuzzi?” Lee asked. “I think we should get in the Jacuzzi.” He stuck a foot over the reflection pool.

“Jacuzzi!” Evangeline cheered. “Exit to the Jacuzzi!”

Andy hung his head. “You know what, break for twenty minutes, everyone.”

“That’s enough time to swim in the Jacuzzi,” Lee grinned. “Come on, Evangeline” He jokingly acted like he was going to shed his costume and go for a swim. Evangeline cheered him on.

From the sidelines, Diz watched proudly.

 

*******************************

 

Lee banged on Stephen’s trailer door. Repeatedly. “Oh, come on, I know you’re in there! This isn’t funny this, this crap is heavy!” He whined. Evangeline rolled her eyes and liberated a pack of beer from Lee. Why men did things like that and called it ‘chivalry’ was beyond her. All it did was place a burden on themselves; and then they whined. Richard nodded his thanks to the Elf-Captain. He didn’t want to deal with Lee whining, either.

The door swung open and Stephen leaned out. “No, I don’t see anyone! Deano, you see anyone?”

Dean poked his head out. “Nope, nobody there.”

“Move your sorry asses or I WILL dump this beer on the ground!” Lee laughed.

“Arse, it’s arse. And now you’re threatening the beer. What did that poor beer ever do to you?” Stephen laughed. “Come in.”

Evangeline hadn’t been in Stephen’s trailer before. She’d been to Orlando’s and Lee’s, but never to any of the Dwarves. It looked like Stephen had tried to tidy up, there was a pile of stuff shoved under the kitchen table, but it was very much a typical bachelor pad. Snacks were set out – mostly healthy stuff, oddly enough. Pretzels, fresh fruit, some sort of sweet made from honey that Evangeline couldn’t identify, and walnuts were spread out on the coffee table. “You’re not one of those eco-weirdos, are you?” She asked Stephen.

“Oh, that’s just his version of party food.” Aidan said as Dean sat reclaimed the seat next to him on the couch. “Don’t worry, he usually eats as much junk as me. Just not when he’s got guests. He’s weird.”

Evangeline took the chair as Richard looked at Aidan and Dean and pointed to the floor. Aidan and Dean both rolled their eyes and slid down to the floor so Richard and Lee could sit. Both young Dwarves did so with limited complaint, something Evangeline wasn’t sure possible. How the hell did he get them to do that? Strangely enough, nobody seemed to think it was unusual: Adam and Luke, also sitting on the floor, actually seemed oblivious to it all. Stephen passed out the first round of the beers and took a seat on the floor next to the coffee table. “So… what do you boys do at these parties?” She asked.

“Normally we get Richard drunk enough to take his pants off, then we bribe Aidan and Dean to dance in thongs. After that, we stick all three of them in the closet and tie Lee to a chair while Luke performs Aboriginal tribal dances around him.” Stephen shrugged.

“We play video games,” Adam elaborated, ignoring his friend. “And we try to not tell Jeb about the party. He talks through the games too much. Right now we’re on a FIFA kick. Usually, we degrade into what women refer to as ‘stupidity’ partway through. We have promised not to make any fart jokes, since there’s a lady present.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, I have a bunch of those!” Evangeline tried to sound disappointed. They all laughed.

As the night progressed, everyone defeated Stephen at FIFA (Which was funny, since it was Stephen’s game and console), they drank, laughed, talked, threw the healthy snacks at each other, and forgot about the promise not to make fart jokes. Aidan fell asleep (which prompted Stephen to locate a Sharpie and everyone, even Evangeline, wrote something on the Irishman's face. Well, Dean drew a heart, but still...), and Lee and Richard eventually moved over enough for Evangeline to sit next to Lee and let Jeb (who DID find out about the party and DID join them and DID talk like crazy to the point where nobody could get a word in edgewise) have a comfortable seat.

As they all said good-night, ranging from highly tipsy to blasted, Evangeline made them all promise to invite her for more ‘game nights’. As she left Stephen’s trailer and started towards her own humble abode, she watched Richard and Lee made sure Dean and Aidan got back to Dean’s trailer. Richard was almost… paternal with them, scolding them about drinking so much and then righting them when they staggered. Lee made cracks about the boys as they finally got them into the trailers, then leaned over and whispered to Richard something that Evangeline couldn’t hear. They retreated to separate trailers. Evangeline, curious, went into her own trailer and peeked out a window, where she had a good vantage of Lee’s door. Not five minutes later, Richard came calling, looking around to make sure he hadn’t been seen.

Lee pulled open the door and more or less yanked Richard inside. Evangeline got a glimpse of the two of them as Lee closed the door, Lee with his arms wrapped around Richard and Richard kissing him passionately.

"Wow," Evangeline said breathlessly as she shut the blinds. 'Well, well, THAT explained why Richard takes all Lee’s time!' She thought.

As Evangeline got ready for bed, unbuttoning her shirt a bit so she could change into her pyjamas, she couldn’t help but mourn what could have been. The image of Richard and Lee kissing burned into her mind. "Oh, fuck it." She turned, not bothering to re-button the top few buttons, headed to her cupboard, pulled out the vodka she'd been saving, and marched over to Lee's trailer. She banged on the door until the American answered.

"Hello, Lee. I have a question for you. Do you and Richard want to continue the party with me?" She bumped the vodka against her leg, bringing Lee's attention to it.

"Richard's not here..." Lee tried.

"I can see your door from my trailer, he's here. Come on, I'm up for it if you are." Evangeline batted her eyelashes at him. She knew she looked perfect. Disheveled, shirt undone, holding alcohol. Oh, yes, she would be hard to resist.

Lee gulped.

**********************************

 

Mirkwood was enormous.

Of course, Tolkien had drawn it that way on the maps, so it was logical that the set be enormous, too.

The actors were actually having a blast with it, finally able to shoot the scenes leading up to the spider battle. They were doing ‘rolling retakes’, which essentially meant they marched all the way through the woods, got out, marched back, and then started again. Three or four of those in a row, then to the tents for a cool-down.

It was a blast. The best direction they got most of the time was: “Pretend you’re trying not to get lost,” which really wasn’t needed, since they had a great deal of trouble trying to remember which way they were supposed to be going. The camera tracks helped, but some shots were done so far away that it was easy to lose the path. Richard and Thorin both apparently had no sense of direction, but between the rest of them, they kept their King on track. Aidan had made it a point to touch half the set, running his hands over some of the trees as they passed. Dean thought it was hilarious that Aidan would touch fake trees, but couldn’t stand the real things. Hypocrite.

As they were heading to the tents after a series of ‘treks’ through Mirkwood, James realised he dropped the all-important ‘Blue Mountains flask’. He looked around, patting his Dwarf-pockets and trying to figure out what he’d done with the blasted thing.

“Is this yours?” One of the new interns, slightly older than their usual fare, held out the flask to James. Dark brown hair and grey eyes, unusual. Next to her, a blonde intern with chocolate eyes, this time around the usual intern age, stood quietly staring at him.

“Thank you, gorgeous.” James winked at the older intern as he took the flask from her.

She looked startled for a moment, pulling her hand back as soon as he touched the flask, and a frown passed across her face before she schooled her features. “You… you’re welcome. See, Darcy, they’re just as human as the rest of us.” She gave James a small smile. Her New Zealand accent was different that Peter’s or Dean’s, probably from the countryside. “Darcy’s afraid to talk to you.”

James saluted the young ladies. “No need to be afraid of me. I only bite when asked.” He didn’t need to bring up the fact that he was, indeed, not human. As he headed back to the air-conditioning tent, he could hear the two young women chatting.

“I don’t know why you don’t like my boyfriend,” Darcy complained. “Vi, he’s a great guy. He’s really, really funny.”

“My brothers don’t like him, and I’m with them. He’s… weird. Something isn’t right about him.” The older intern, apparently named Vi, answered. James couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation.

A half-hour in the cooling tent was heaven for the Dwarves. It was done all-too-soon, and they came back out to perform another three or four laps. As they passed the trees, pretending to be lost/not-lost Dwarves (or, in Richard's case, no pretending necessary), Aidan ran his left hand along one of the false trees that leaned over them to form an archway as they stepped through.

The trees were not light little prop pieces; these things were heavy and large, each weighing several hundred pounds at the lightest. Aidan had touched this particular tree on every go, a set piece meant to look like the tree was several hundred feet tall. In reality, the tree was barely over sixty feet, but it was the look that mattered, they weren’t going to be filming that high up.

This time, at Aidan’s touch, the snap of a cable was heard. The tree lurched forward, towards Aidan. Whatever slight nudge he had given it earlier did the trick. Another cable snapped, and the tree started downwards, snapping the rest of the cables that kept it securely above the actors. James watched in horror as the tree came down in front of him, as Aidan put up both arms to protect his head. Richard was too far ahead to make a difference but Dean, Dean grabbed at Aidan’s waist and tried to pull him out of the way. But Dean was smaller than Aidan, and the result was that they fell to the fake forest floor, heads toward James, as the tree hit.

“Oh, Gods, no!” James heard someone shout. Mark, that was Mark. Mark was ahead of them, he couldn’t see that they’d gotten mostly out.

“They’re alive!” James called out. “They’re alive!” He bent to check them. Aidan was dirty and sweating, while Dean was looking dazed. The tree had hit Aidan’s leg; the Irishman had been farther up the path than the Kiwi. Dean, however, had been hit higher up. Not in the abdomen where his organs could have been crushed, thankfully, but high enough that his thighbone had probably been broken. James wasn’t too big on medicine, but he was fairly certain that there was artery in that vicinity. Dean could bleed out. “Lads, lads, talk to me, do you feel anything wet?”

“My leg,” Aidan said, trying to shove at the tree. It didn’t budge.

“Stop moving. Dean, you?” James asked.

“No, nothing wet. It just hurts.” Dean winced. “Shit, survive a car wreck to get hit by a tree.”

“See what happens when you go rambling?” Aidan managed to grin. He reached forward and ran a hand through Dean’s wig.

It was only a few seconds before others joined James, first Martin, then Peter, and the rest of the Gods and Dwarves. “We need to get this off of them.” Graham stared at the tree. “Richard, help me.” They shoved at the tree, but it rolled slightly and then back onto the boys. Dean howled out in pain.

“Idiots, move!” A group of the crew, led by the brunette intern Vi, rushed up, armed with random brooms, mops, rakes, hoes, and a series of fake rocks from the set.“Levers, guys, push it away! Everyone else, back away, this could roll!” They placed the handles under the tree and the rocks under the handles so the handles rested at an angle from the tree. On the count of three, they pushed down on the handles, and somehow managed to lift the tree enough for Aidan to scramble out. Aidan tried to pull Dean out, but James grabbed onto the Kiwi and dragged him out. The tree hit the forest floor again with a ‘thud’ as soon as Dean was out.

As Dean and Aidan were surrounded by cast and crew, James heard Vi call out: “Anyone seen Darcy?”

It was chaos from then on. Liz showed up on set, having been called by Fran. The injuries were far beyond what she could heal, and Martin couldn’t do anything without calling too much attention to himself, at least, while they were on set. Liz ordered Dean loaded up onto a gurney, to be taken back to her office. Aidan was loaded into a rolling chair. Both were rolled to Liz’s office by Liz and Graham, followed closely by Martin. James knew they were in good hands.

Peter was ordering a crane be brought in to remove the tree, and the rest of the chaos was dying down. In all of it, James saw that intern again with her fiend. Darcy, was it? Darcy looked as though she was crying, and Vi didn’t look too pleased about it, even though she had an arm wrapped around her friend. “She okay?” James asked them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Darcy hiccuped. “I didn’t think they would do that. I mean, they’re so STRONG, and there were redundancies and… it was just supposed to jump…” James paled and he made a ‘come here’ motion to Peter. As soon as the director got there, Darcy burst out into a flood of tears. Vi flinched away from the actor and director. “Darcy, Darcy, you said something about redundancies. What had redundancies?” James asked. Darcy shook her head and wailed louder.

“The tree,” Vi said at an almost-whisper. They nearly didn’t hear her.

“It was just supposed to jump, he said that’s all it would do and it would be funny! Be remembered on set! I have to be remembered or I wouldn’t get a job when I got out of school! That’s what you have to do in the movies, get remembered to get a job!“ Darcy wailed.

Peter’s voice was cold when he spoke. “What did you do?”

“I just... loosened a knot on one of the cables, that’s all. It was supposed to shift, the knot was supposed to tighten back up when it slipped. It wasn’t supposed to snap, I swear. I’m sorry!”

James had to grab onto Richard to keep the Englishman from attacking the girl. It was a lucky thing he did, too, as Richard surged forward as soon as those words left her mouth.

Vi shook her head. “Darcy, you could have killed someone… you said ‘he’, did Brandon tell you to do this?” “

"He works in the movies in LA, he knows this stuff! All I had to do was be remembered, do something funny! He’s so sweet, he wouldn’t hurt anyone! He was there when my other boyfriend vanished.” Darcy wailed. “He said it would be funny…”

“Can you show me a picture of Brandon?” James asked. He felt colder and colder. A boyfriend, who turned up right at the exact moment and helped out someone who had just been dumped… it was very, very familiar. Vi pulled out her phone, still comforting her friend, and pushed buttons on it until she came to a particular photo. She handed it to James: a photo of Darcy and a blonde, handsome young man was on the screen. “That’s Brandon?” Vi nodded. “Son of a bitch.” He showed the photo to Peter.

They’d seen him before, in a message from Simon. It was Pothos.

"Go tell Ian,” Peter said to Richard. Richard turned on his heel and literally ran to talk to the old God.

 

********************

 

Ian stewed in his trailer, pacing back and forth, as Richard gave him a play-by-play on what had happened. Martin was still busy fixing the boys up, with Graham playing security for them. Peter and Fran were trying to get control of the scene and get the danger removed.

That little intern, Darcy, had nearly killed the boys. On one hand, she nearly could have nearly killed several of the actors, including two of Ian’s children. On the other, it was obvious Pothos had manipulated her. Her previous boyfriend that had ‘vanished’ was probably dead. Poor girl. She was truly torn up about the whole thing. She’d killed any chances at working in the movie industry; she’d be blackballed, probably worldwide, for this stunt. It was one thing to pull a prank, it was another to injure someone on purpose. Peter seemed to think that was punishment enough.

Ian was having mixed feelings about this. Inside, he raged. He wanted blood. Outside, he knew that wasn’t the answer, she was an innocent; manipulated by another God. He compromised. “Richard, get the girl to call her boyfriend, see if she can get him on set. I want him caught. Alive.”

“He’ll run,” Richard argued. “I would. He’s been around at least as long as I. It’s the smart thing to do.”

“Pothos is cunning, but not as much as you. He might turn up. Have her tell him that Dean and Aidan are all right. He may come to finish the job.” Ian reasoned.

“What will you do to him if you catch him?” Richard asked. The last God they’d caught… well, that had been an adventure, at least.

Ian finally took a seat in his favourite chair. “What would you do?”

Richard thought for a moment. “I want to kill him. I’m not too happy with the girl, either. It would be best to keep me away from both of them.” He had to remind himself not to ball his hands into fists. Anger led to fire.

Ian nodded in agreement. “I understand, but right now we need her secured. Go get Lee, switch places with Graham and have him take custody of… Darcy.”

“Lee wasn’t on the set,” Richard protested.

“I’m not stupid, nor am I blind. No matter how much you two pretend to be only friends, Lee wouldn’t have come with you to the O’Gorman house if you two were just friends. You can fool the others, but not me.” Ian shook his head. “Go. Take Lee to see the boys. You’re dying to, anyway. You’re practically a father to them. You need to make sure they’re safe, Pothos may not be far. I’ll get security to keep an eye out for him.”

Richard thanked Ian profusely before he practically ran from Ian’s trailer, collected Lee from his trailer where he’d been going over a script, and hurried the American to the clinic. He explained to Graham the situation, going over certain details with Lee, then took over hounding Liz about the boys when Graham left. Martin had to intervene.

“Rich, they’re fine. Dean had a broken leg, right after I fixed that blasted arm of his, too. Aidan sprained his knee and his wrist when he fell, and a very, very small laceration from one of his prop swords cutting his leg through the muscle suit. He may have broken a couple fingers, too. I got them through one round of healing, and I’m going to do another in a minute once the pain meds knock them out.”

“What are you going to tell everyone?” Lee asked.

“That our resident troublemakers are very lucky,” Liz nodded at Lee. “Which they are. Dean's fracture could have sliced his artery, had it been any worse. Aidan got extremely lucky. If Fran hadn't put the protection spell on their costumes ages ago, it would have been much worse. Dean probably would have broken his pelvis, Aidan would have had two broken legs and a shoulder out-of-socket.

“Will it count as an attempt?” Richard asked. That would be two for Aidan: the car accident and now this incident.

“No,” Martin shook his head. “Pothos, that’s one of Aphrodite’s bad guys, Lee;" Martin explained when the American looked confused. "Pothos didn’t try to kill Aidan himself, so it doesn’t count. It has to be a direct attempt for the rule of three to work.”

Richard kicked a bin. “Damnit!” He slid down into a chair and held his head in his hands. He felt, rather than saw, Lee sit down next to him, placing an arm over Richard’s shoulders. “All of this for nothing, then.”

As Liz and Lee tried to console Richard, Martin started on the second round of healing. He had barely gotten anything done when the door to the clinic banged open. James rushed, holding a very bloody blonde woman. Darcy. “Get something to lay her on! She sliced her wrist! You don’t do something in the next twenty seconds, we’ll lose her!” James shouted frantically.

Liz wasted no time. She was up and helping James move Darcy to the last unoccupied gurney, watching as blood dripped from soaked bandages on the young woman’s wrist to the floor. Vi, who’d followed James in, grasped her friend's non-bloodied hand and held on. Martin pulled away from the boys, switching over to Darcy. Yes, she tried to kill them, but she was still a PATIENT. Richard jumped up when he realized Martin’s intent, but Lee grabbed onto him and pulled him back. “Let him!”

“She hurt them!”

“You said she didn’t mean it! She’s an innocent! Go after the Pot-head guy!” Lee shouted back. “Don’t get your revenge on her!”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late,” Martin whispered, bowing his head. “She’s gone.” James put his fingers to Darcy’s pulse, then closed his eyes and nodded. They were too late.

“What? No! Darcy, Darcy you can’t be gone, you’re the first friend I’ve had in ages!” Vi looked terrified and tears began to form. “Darcy, please wake up!” She shook her friend, frantically begging Darcy to wake up. When Martin moved to pull Vi back, Vi jumped away from him, looking startled and pressing herself against the far wall. She composed herself quickly, though she couldn't stop the flow of tears, then said. “Can I have her cell phone?”

Liz pulled the phone out of Darcy’s pocket as she covered the young woman’s face with a cloth. She handed the phone to Lee, who passed it on to Vi. “Who are you going to call?” Liz asked.

“That bastard boyfriend. If he hadn’t told to do her that, she wouldn’t have…. And then she wouldn’t have… She called him just before I left to get her water...” Vi trailed off as she dialed the numbers. She held the phone to her ear and waited as it rang. They assumed someone picked up, because Vi talked rapidly into the phone. “You piece of shit! Darcy listened to you and now….. She’s dead, you moron .…..What? No, nobody else is dead!...... No, it certainly didn’t go right, you ass! Your girlfriend just killed herself and you…… something’s wrong with you. Diz and Al were right, you’re... you’re insane.” Vi threw the mobile phone down, shattering it into a thousand pieces, and collapsed into a chair. “Son of a bitch, he doesn’t even care!” She hiccuped a sob and buried her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Martin whispered.

Vi sniffled and shook her head. “Nothing you could have done, you’re just an actor.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t mean it,” Martin said. If only she knew… he could have saved Darcy, if they’d only gotten there a little sooner. 

Vi curled up in the chair. “I didn’t know she had the knife, or I wouldn’t have gotten up. It was just to get her some water…” She rose from the chair. “I.... I need to tell my brothers where I am, then can I come back and wait... until the ambulance comes to... take her...? I’ll stay out of your way…"

“I’ll call for an ambulance,” Liz nodded. “When you return, I’d like to make sure that you’re all right…”

Vi stepped towards the door, wiping the tears away. “I’ll be fine,” she muttered as she hurried out the door.

“Poor girl…” Lee shook his head. “To lose her best friend like that…”

“She’s lying,” Richard frowned. “She’s lying about something.”

Martin gave Richard a strange look. “Rich, I know when people are lying. She wasn’t. She didn’t utter a single word of untruth.”

“No, she was lying. You didn’t catch it?” Richard asked them. They all shook their heads, looking bewildered. “Her accent is Kiwi, right?” Several nods. “Then why did she say ‘cell phone’? Only Americans use that. Which leads me to wonder… what else is she up to?” Richard glanced at the lifeless body in the room and at the blood covering James, who stood as a silent sentinel over the girl’s still form. “I think Darcy here is more of a victim than Vi led us to believe.”

 

*****************************

 "I cannot believe I did that!" Evangeline groaned at her make-up artist as she flopped into her chair. Two days later and she was still regretting it. What the hell had she been thinking? She'd never have done that if she'd been sober.

Diz was busy picking through his kit of brushes. "Did what?"

"I spent the other night at Lee and Richard's."

Diz dropped said brushes. "You did WHAT? Oh, honey, you're asking for heartbreak! I mean, the thought of it is heaven, they are very, very  yummy." He paused for a moment to contemplate the 'yumminess' of Richard and Lee. "But... the emotional reality... I'm not Cupid, but I can tell they're pretty solid."

Evangeline sighed dramatically. "I know, I know. Stupid of me."

"You said it, not me." Diz bowed his head slightly. "Sorry, that was bitchy, wasn't it?" Evangeline scowled at him. "It's been a long night. I spent most it consoling my little sister. Her friend died. Vi's having a bad time of it. She's talking about quitting. I'm trying to keep her on set, it's good for her, to be around people. Vi's in introvert by nature."

Evangeline was grateful for the topic change. "What happened?"

"I know there was an accident on set, but Vi won't tell me the details. She says it didn't make any sense, and that's all she'll say." Diz said as he motioned for Evangeline to lean back in the chair so he could start to work. "Something about the boyfriend. I didn't like him, anyway. Well, I never got to meet him, but the things she said about him... made him sound like a controlling and mentally abusive bastard. Poor girl. Vi says that if she ever sees him again, she'll kill him. And she doesn't say things like that lightly."

"I see," Evangeline said quietly. Poor girl, indeed. As Diz worked, humming something with to himself, Evangeline's mind kept going back to what she'd done a few nights ago. Stupid party.

"You're thinking about it again," Diz accused. "You're wrinkling up your nose and I can't work with that. Stop it. Tell you what, tonight I'll take you out and we'll go for a few drinks: you to get your mind off Lee and me to get my mind off Vi. Maybe you'll meet someone."

"That sounds nice," Evangeline admitted. A nice night out to forget her... indiscretion.

 

***********************

 

Richard had dealt with a lot of strange things on this project: Gods, car accidents, Stephen running around the trailers in nothing but his fat suit, and much more.

But now there was a dragon on set.

And he was sitting right across from Richard.

From the moment Benedict Cumberbatch had come onto the set, he’d followed Martin around like a lost duckling. Martin didn’t seem to notice, and Peter didn’t seem to mind. Richard had tried to avoid the dragon during lunch, but Martin had taken his usual seat with the Dwarves and Benedict had followed. Benedict had pulled up a chair as if he’d always been there, cheerfully saying ‘hello’ to the Dwarves. The Dwarves, for the most part, found Benedict to be a delight, greeting him enthusiastically.

Richard was not amused.

“Richard, right?” Benedict cheerfully asked him. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” He set his tray down and extended a hand.

Richard tried very hard not to look angry. Pissing off fellow actors was never a good way to start a work relationship. He shook Benedict’s hand, but only for decorum’s sake. “You’ve heard about me? Such as?”

“I’ve heard that you are a huge fan of King Arthur. Sort of. Frankly, I prefer the prose of the Canterbury Tales, they really modernized the language. But, I am a massive fan of Arthur.”

Richard took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t been fond of King Arthur, he WAS King Arthur. It was bad enough that they got numerous bits of the story wrong, especially when they attributed the lion banner to him. And the existence of Lancelot. “I am very familiar with the tale.” He acquiesced.

Benedict laughed. “More than familiar, from what Martin’s told me!” He took a bite of his chicken sandwich. “I would love to hear it from you.”

“There are various texts written by scholars,” Richard squared his shoulders. “I can recommend some for you.”

“No fun at all,” Benedict grumbled. “So, my day tomorrow is going to compose of having dots stuck on my face so they can capture my expressions, then pretending I’m a dragon. How about yours?” He looked at the Dwarves at the table and took another bite of his sandwich.

“I want to sit in on that, get a sense of what you’re doing. They’re going to be shooting my response shots soon.” Martin explained.

“I’d rather just run around the gold pile with you and have them CGI the dragon over me. Hey, think they’d let us do that? We both would work better that way. ‘Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?’” Benedict scowled at Martin, saying the words with a hiss in his deep voice. Then, he lightened it in almost perfect mockery of Martin’s voice. “‘I come from under the hill, and under hills and over hills my path has led. And through the air. I am he who walks unseen. I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly'…”

“Oh, someone shut him up, he’ll be reciting the whole damn book if you don’t!” James groaned. Mark took his dinner roll from his plate and stuffed it into Benedict’s mouth, just as he was reciting ‘I came from the end of a bag’.

Benedict scowled and pulled the roll out. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, yes we did. You’ll be on for hours if nobody stops you.” Martin laughed. Benedict couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“I suppose you’re right,” Benedict said with a grin. “So, any plans for tonight?”

“I found this place that has divine fish and chips,” James suggested. “You should try it out. We can go tonight.”

“Jimmy, chew FIRST, then talk.” Graham sighed. “I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you that.”

“Sod off,” James clapped Graham on the back. “You eat the way you want, I’ll eat the way I want.” Graham chuckled. “What about you, lads? Want to come with?” James asked Dean and Aidan.

"Hm. We've got a lesson tonight." Aidan sighed. "No can do."

“Tell you what, I'll talk to Ian, see if he won't postpone it we agree not to stay out too late." James grinned. "That means no partying for you two tonight, boys. Don’t want to piss off the cranky old man.” James winked at the two of them. They knew better: James adored Ian.

Benedict took a sip of his water to flush his food down. “Lessons?”

“Aye, Ian thinks they could do with classical literature, so they have a lesson once a week.” James nodded.

“Is that what you’re doing in Ian’s trailer?” Adam asked.

Aidan stuck his tongue out. It was stained with blueberries from his dessert. “What did you think we were doing?”

“Oh, I’m sure we could have come up with something more interesting…” Stephen waggled his eyebrows.

Dean picked at his salad. It needed more tomatoes. “It’s no big deal. We usually just listen to something from classical Greek texts. I’d say we sneak in beer, but Ian’s supplied it a few times, so… yeah. At the end, he asks what morals could be learned from the story, and that’s it. A lot of the morals end up being ‘don’t piss off the Gods’ to start with, but he keeps asking us stuff until we come to an answer he likes.

Benedict nodded. “Socratic method. Typical of him.” He nudged Martin. “I thought they weren’t…”

“They’re not…” Martin said quietly.

“I’ve never heard of Ian doing that for the hell of it,” Benedict countered, just as quietly. Louder, he said. “Please tell me they’re in Latin, I love Latin. I’ll even come to your lesson if it is.”

“We don’t speak Latin,” Aidan gave Benedict a strange look. He toyed with his blueberry pie a bit before speaking again. “I don’t think you’ll be very interested in it. It’s all dull history.”

“Myth, not history.” Dean reminded his boyfriend.

“You come with us to town today, I’ll go to your lesson tonight.” Benedict grinned. “Sounds fair?”

Richard cringed. He had to attend the lessons, too. He really didn’t want this… energetic and extremely talkative dragon there. Did Benedict know how to shut up? He was seriously giving Jeb a run for the title of ‘most obnoxious at way-too-early in the morning’ and ‘unable to keep mouth from saying what brain is thinking’. That was a feat all by itself. “Deal,” Aidan nodded. Dean agreed as well. Richard hung his head. Nobody noticed.

“Hey, you two are paying for your own, you hear?” James mock-scowled. “It’s not like I have an unlimited supply of money.” That was true, he couldn’t conjure printed items. Dean had seen one attempt – it hadn’t been pretty. James had explained it as something ‘about the ideal of the item, not the actual’.

Aidan and Dean nodded. “Richard, you’re coming, too, right?” Martin asked. “The boys always feel safer when you’re around.”

Richard took a bite of meatloaf and scowled. Martin’s words could be translated as ‘You’ll be with them, anyway, and Ian’s not going to start the lesson without you there. Plus, you’re dangerous, in case Aphrodite’s crew show up. They don’t know about you.’ Richard thought for a moment about saying ‘no’. “Fine, I’ll go.” Lee's parents had come to New Zealand, and the American had planned to take them out to dinner tonight. Really, going with was better than sitting at home.

Benedict cheered and the rest of the Dwarves finished their lunches and headed to rehearsals.

Richard was the last to leave. Bloody dragon.

 

**************************

 

It was a good thing that Martin and James had come with on the excursion – it was plain to see that Aidan and Dean were so excited at having a new friend – Benedict – that they weren’t paying attention to the things going on around them. It was hard enough for Richard to wrangle the two of them by himself, and Benedict thrown into the mix made it ten times worse. Benedict came up with a lot of drinking games, and his tolerance for beer wasn’t on the strong side. While they'd made a two-beer limit, Benedict's tolerance apparently didn't stretch that far.

“You seriously blasted air horns at the Elves? Oh, that is perfect!” Benedict laughed, swaying slightly in his chair. “Have they forgiven you?”

“Meh. Lee and Eva have, we're all friends now. Orlando’s still got a bit of a grudge.” Aidan admitted.

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen Orlando try Shakespeare. I think my ears started bleeding. I am sorry, but I just can’t stand it when someone does Shakespeare badly. Personal tick. The Bard is my favorite, after all.” Benedict took another drink of his beer. “You should have seen it, Pete.”

James winced. “Jimmy.”

“Hm?” Benedict looked confused.

“My name is Jimmy,” James insisted. “You’re drunk. Damn it, I forget that he does that when he’s drunk.”

“Calls you by other people’s names?” Richard sighed. What was wrong with that dragon?

“No, I’m calling him by his name!” Benedict poked Richard in the chest drunkenly. Martin smartly maneuvered his friend away from Richard before their Fire God went volcano on them. “He’s Pete!” Benedict pointed at James. “And he’s Paul!” He pointed at Martin. “And you…” Benedict swayed slightly and squinted at Richard. “You’re… fuck I can’t figure it out. I’m gonna call you Arthur. Arthur’s easier.” He turned to Aidan and Dean. “And you two are… well, you’re Fuzzy,” he pointed at Aidan. “and you’re ME!” he pointed at Dean. “That’s so great! You’re me!”

“So… a lightweight and a happy drunk.” Aidan nodded.

Martin sighed. “C’mon Benny. Let’s get you up and get going.” He stood and pulled Benedict to his feet. “This can only get to get worse,” Martin explained. “We need to get him out of here before-“

"You know what, I love the fact that you’re playing a Hobbit. Tolkien wasn’t Shakespeare, but he built a world with words. Incredible. I mean, yeah, I helped a bit, when he got all stuffy, but still.” Benedict grinned. “’In a hole in the ground lived a Hobbit, not a nasty, dirty hole-‘“

James sighed and stood. “That’s it for our night.”

“We should get back anyway, it's getting late. He really normally doesn't start until he's had at least three beers, but I think he's tired from the flight.” Martin sighed. Benedict continued on, oblivious to the rest around him.

“I don’t understand, why is he quoting the ‘Hobbit’?” Dean asked.

Martin pulled his coat on, then handed Benedict his. Benedict slipped the coat on without so much as missing a beat. “He’s not quoting, he’s reciting. If we don’t shut him up, he’ll do the whole thing. Last time it was King Lear.” He threw some bills on the table and rushed the rest of them out the door. “Whatever you do, DO NOT start him on Shakespeare. He’s worse with that."

“That’s a…. strange tick to have.” Richard watched as Benedict leaned against the building as they waited for the car to show back up. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that he…”

“Bragi,” James sighed.

“What did I do?” Dean asked, looking offended.

“No, not you, him. He’s Bragi, the real one. He’s not normally this bad, but if you get him drunk…. Well, this is what you get.” Martin shook his head.

“Wait, you’re Bragi?” Aidan asked, staring at Benedict.

“Of course I am, I had to sign off on Dean playing me in the Johnsons thingy. Brilliantly done. Bit of a prick, though, could you tone that down a bit? And they’ve got the powers all wrong.” Benedict raised a drunken eyebrow before continuing with his recitation. “'What a lot of things you do use Good Morning for!...'”

Dean pointed at the dragon. “How do you make him stop?”

James wrapped an arm around the Kiwi’s shoulder. “When he’s this drunk, forget it. Aidan, you may as well pull your headphones out. He can literally quote anything ever written. You can ask him all sorts of things classified by MI-5, he knows it all.”

“He’ll stop once I put him to bed,” Martin shrugged. He got some incredulous stares at that. “That’s not how I meant it you… sodding bastards.”

Their driver finally arrived, and they climbed in, Benedict happily reciting “'To think I should have lived to have been good-morning'ed by Belladonna Took’s son, as if I were selling buttons at the door!” It was a long ride back home.

The next morning, a note appeared on the door of Benedict’s trailer. It was simple, to the point, and in Richard’s handwriting. It read ‘Do not give Dragons alcohol if you value your sanity.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am sorry for the inclusion of the suicide, if anyone is disturbed by it. However, it was necessary to illustrate the pull and control Pothos can have. Please note that the Darcy character was actually not suicidal on her own, she was pushed to it by Pothos when she 'failed'. There were two versions of those scenes written, one with Darcy's arrest and the other with the suicide. My editor and I felt the suicide brought home the reality of the situation a little better, and she wanted to get me out of my comfort zone a bit.
> 
> Suicide is NEVER something to be joked about or taken lightly. If someone is suicidal, please listen to them and assist them with getting help.


	17. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Evangeline gets her mind off Lee, Dean and Aidan play 'family', and Richard discovers he doesn't like being stabbed.

The pub was full of laughter and life. Evangeline and Diz had their own table, sharing stories of bad boyfriends. Diz was winning, but only because he had one that took his pants and underwear off in front of Diz’s sister on a dare. Alcohol and good company, that’s what Evangeline needed to get Lee off her mind.

A commotion came from the front area, and Diz stood on his chair so he could see what it was. “Well, damn it.”

“What?” Evangeline asked.

“I see Dwarf people,” Diz joked. “Seriously, we’ve got three vanilla Dwarves, a Dwarven King, a Hobbit, and a Dragon.”

Evangeline sighed and slunk down in her chair. She really, really didn’t want to deal with Richard right now. “Spectacular. You forget how popular this place is with the cast.”

“You wanna leave?” Diz asked and he hopped down from his chair.

No way Evangeline was going to be run out of a pub by her coworkers. Especially not stone-faced Richard. Even if the Dwarven King was handsome while he was asleep… “I want something heavier than this to drink.”

Diz nodded. “I’ll see what I can get. Something with apples. Apples are good for the soul. So are oranges, but apples are easier on the stomach.”

“Vodka is better,” Evangeline teased. Diz gave her a sloppy and lighthearted salute before wandering his way to the bar. One good thing about being short, he could weave in and out of a crowd and be practically unnoticed.

As she waited for her make-up artist to return with the drinks, Evangeline surveyed the crowd. While it was nice to get away from the studio, she realized she had been getting a lot of strange looks from the pub’s occupants. After all, she was unusually attractive and now alone. Her character wasn’t even known at this time, and even if Tauriel had been, her dark hair contrasted greatly with the character’s red. She was anonymous. Well, as long as the other actors didn’t see her.

She watched as her coworkers generally made fools of themselves: Dean, Aidan, and now Benedict being absolute morons. Richard was having a hard time keeping them in some semblance of respectability. Richard, who was with Lee and had made it painfully clear their relationship was his priority.

Evangeline leaned back in her chair and sighed. Just her luck that the handsome Englishman would be after the same man she’d been dazzled by. “Damn it. Get out of that rut right now.” She whispered to herself.

She was still trying to clear her head of thoughts about two certain kings when someone plopped into the chair next to her. Diz had returned, brandishing some outlandish multicoloured thing for himself and something clear for Evangeline. “Nice strong medicine for heartache.” He handed the drink over to her. Diz was doing his best to distract the actress, he really, really was. He was charming and funny, and would have been perfect if he wasn’t busy staring at the butts of every halfway attractive male in the building. They talked about random things, projects Evangeline had been on, costuming that Diz had made, anything to get her mind off the King in the pub with them. Luckily for her, the actors were so absorbed in their drinking games and random stupidity that they still hadn’t noticed her. They probably wouldn’t even notice her if she ran up and smacked them in the head. Idiots.

After they finished the drinks, Evangeline decided she’d had enough. Nothing could take her mind off Lee and Richard with Richard so close by. “We should go.”

Diz gave her a sad look, but nodded. “You’re probably right.” He glanced at the table of actors – they’d have to pass them to get out. “You want my coat and cap?”

“Please.” The only thing worse than dealing with Richard right now would be dealing with a drunk Richard. No, tonight was not the night for a confrontation. The make-up artist gladly handed over his clothing, which the actress donned quickly.

Diz went to pay, promising to meet Evangeline outside the pub. She snuck out, changing her body language enough to throw her co-workers off. Just as she slipped past them, she heard Benedict laugh. “You seriously blasted air horns at the Elves? Oh, that is perfect! Have they forgiven you?” Evangeline smiled to herself for the first time that evening. No, she actually hadn’t forgiven them for their greeting her first day on set. She heard Aidan admit that Orlando still had a grudge (actually, it was more than a grudge). So, they thought she’d forgotten about it. Perhaps a bit of revenge was in order – after all, the dish was certainly cold enough

She stepped into the crisp evening air, still grinning to herself. She was plotting her revenge on the Dwarven demons when someone bumped into her. “Oh, so sorry.” She was planning to give whoever wasn’t watching where they were going a piece of her mind, but when she turned, she saw a man slightly younger than her with blonde hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and built like a model. “Ah.” He stared at her in surprise. “Hi, there. What is a gorgeous thing like you doing outside a dump like this?”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow. “What’s it look like?”

“Oh, sassy! I like that. Calling it quits for the evening?” He asked.

“My friend and I decided the atmosphere wasn’t very good,” Evangeline motioned to the pub.

“Ah. Boyfriend?”

“I don’t have the right equipment for him,” Evangeline explained..

“I… see…” The man looked thoughtful. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Eva works,” she said carefully. He looked nice enough, but you could never tell.

The blonde man gave her a gorgeous grin. “You look like you’ve had a rough week.,”

Diz joined Evangeline outside, looking slightly pale and clutching his arms. Evangeline’s attention went from the beautiful man in front of her back to her stylist. “Diz, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He looked… upset? Worried? Frightened? Evangeline wasn’t sure what.

“I’m fine…” Diz shook his head. “I thought I heard something… I’m fine, really.” Evangeline knew better, but didn’t press the matter. As he took his cap and coat back from Evangeline, Diz gave the newcomer a strange look. “Oh, uhm… hello?”

“Sorry, I saw this beautiful lady all alone, thought she could use some company. You must be the friend she was talking a bout. I’m Brandon.” He nodded at the shorter man.

Diz didn’t seem to register the name, and kept glancing nervously at the pub door. “Nice to meet you,” he muttered, more of an afterthought than a greeting. “She’s ah, not alone.”

“I can see that,” Brandon laughed. “I can’t believe you're calling it quits this early! The night is still young! I know this place that has great dancing, just a bit down the street. We could walk to it.” He nudged Evangeline and grinned.

“Sounds like fun, but ah…” Evangeline glanced at Diz. He still looked distracted. “I don’t normally go out with strangers.”

“But how do you get to know someone if you don’t take a chance?” Brandon asked coyly. “Tell you what, your friend can chaperone. Just to make sure I don’t do anything… untoward…” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips, kissing it softly while he met her eyes.

She laughed. It was nice, to be pampered a bit. “Diz, what do you think? Dancing?”

Diz seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. “Dancing sounds good.”

“Come on, you imp!” Evangeline laughed as she linked her arm with his. “Let’s go!”

Brandon led the way to the disco down the street. Between the attentions of the sweet Diz and handsome Brandon, Evangeline finally found herself able to wind down and relax.

 

****************************

 

Richard fussed with his tie for the fourth time in three minutes. Stupid tie. Nooses, that’s what they were. Fancy nooses. He was pondering taking the blasted thing off when Dean spoke up from his seat on the couch, cuddled next to Aidan as they tried to focus on their movie. “You’ve wrinkled it.”

The tie came off, followed by some interesting swear words from a culture long-dead. “Sod it all.”

“Why’re you bothering to get dressed up, anyway?” Aidan asked. “You’re just going to dinner with Lee.”

“Lee’s parents have flown down. I want to make a good impression.” Richard explained, fidgeting with his collar.

“Could you work on making a good impression at your OWN trailer?” Dean asked. “You’re distracting us. If we have to run it back, we won’t have time to finish before Graham’s cooking lesson.”

“Why’re you meeting Lee’s parents?” Aidan teased. “Something gonna happen that we need to know about? You didn’t even ask us to help pick out the ring. Should we be renting tux’s?” Richard gave him a glare. “What? Why’re you looking at me like that? It’s not MY fault you were all lovey-dovey with him on the phone when you babysat us. I really wish I had recorded that stuff.” Richard rolled his eyes and continued to fight with the collar. Stupid collar.

“Is Ian going?” Dean asked nonchalantly.

“Why would Ian go?” Richard asked. Was it just him, or were his dress shoes dull? They needed a shine…

“I figured if it was a ‘meet the parents’ type of thing, he’d go. You did call him Dad.” Dean shrugged. He paused the movie, there was no way they were going to get it finished with Richard fidgeting in his kitchen. The man was as nervous as a teenager on a first date! Dean pulled himself up off the couch. “Come here. Give me the tie.” Richard acquiesced the strip of silk, and Dean worked to smoothen it down before retying it properly, fixing the collar while he was at it. “There. You need a handkerchief for your pocket, I might have one…” He thought for a moment.

“It’s in the sock drawer, I’ll get it.” Aidan rose and headed to the bedroom.

While Aidan located the handkerchief, Dean found a comb and took some of his gel to Richard’s hair. There, much better. Aidan returned with a green handkerchief, the only one Dean owned, and they carefully folded it and placed it in Richard’s breast pocket. “Aidan, what do you think of our boy?”

AIdan gave Richard a once-over. “I think he looks good. He makes us proud.” He wrapped an arm around Dean. “Our little boy, all grown up.”

Richard was torn between glaring at the two of them and thanking them. He hadn’t gotten to do either before Aidan’s hands roamed a bit higher and went under Dean’s shirt. Dean hissed a bit at the contact, slapping Aidan’s hand away. “Not in front of the child. He’s impressionable. And we’ve only got twenty minutes ‘til the cooking lesson, you evil thing.” And Richard thought his and Lee's hormones were bad! Still, as Richard glanced at his reflection in the window, his realized that this meeting wasn't about hormones, it was about love. He was going to meet Lee's parents, the people who had raised his lover. The nerves came back full force. Was he overdressed? Underdressed? Would Lee realize how serious he was about this relationship? Would his parents? “Do I… Is there anything I’m missing? Anything I can use to shine the shoes?”

“Stop worrying! Your clothes won’t make his parents like you.” Dean frowned. “They’ll either like you or they’ll hate you no matter what.”

“First impressions are the most important,” Richard argued. "Should I bring anything for them? Maybe I should stop by and pick up a corsage for his mother... or maybe some wine?"

“Sod it all, get OUT of here. Go, drive, be early. Do anything but worry, you twat!” Aidan huffed. Between him and Dean, Richard found himself manhandled until he was outside the trailer, the lock (and bolt Dean had installed to keep Richard out when they were ‘busy’) firmly latched. After sulking for around a minute and a half, Richard headed out to his car. Being early would certainly make a good impression, wouldn’t it?

As he headed to the car-park, Richard was sure that his cufflinks were uneven.

 

********************

 

Twenty minutes later, Dean and Aidan were headed to Graham’s trailer for their cooking lesson. As they discussed how well Richard’s ‘meet the parents’ dinner was going to go, they spotted Evangeline sneaking back to her trailer with someone in tow. “Hey, look.” Aidan motioned. “Who’s the guy with Evangeline?”

Dean looked. “I’ll be damned.” He shook his head. “We’ll have to ask her about it, later.” Aidan nodded in agreement.

When they reached Prometheus’s trailer and headed inside, they noticed Graham had set up a tray of chicken and various spices. “Baked chicken today, lads! Not that hard to mess up, but if you do, you’ll wind up sick. Better incentive for you to get it right.”

Dean had lost the last round of Call of Duty, so he got stuck with the bright yellow apron with green polka dots. That thing made even his eyes bleed, and his fashion sense wasn’t exactly… fashionable. Graham showed them how to cut the chicken so it would cook thoroughly, then let them have fun with the spices. Aidan kept his fairly bland, using things he was fairly certain he’d seen in his mother’s or Lenora’s kitchens, but Dean decided to try out something exotic-looking that was marked ‘Cajun’. That sounded exciting. Graham’s kitten, who had never gone to live with James’s girls, watched them intently from the countertop, no matter how many times they tried to shoo him away. He knew better than to touch, there was a spray bottle within Graham’s reach and he wasn’t afraid to douse the tiny thing in bits of water, but that chicken smelled very, very good.

After they put the chicken in the oven to bake, the boys washed their hands (repeatedly, in Dean’s case. The slimy chicken hadn’t been fun) and sat down on Graham’s couch. They played with the kitten a bit before the little creature decided he was tired and took a nap in Graham’s lap. Finally, Graham broke the silence, squirming a bit in his seat and coughing before speaking. “So… I was talking to Ian after the whole… intern incident. We, ah, we agreed that you boys shouldn’t be going out unescorted anymore. All of us did. Ian’s security said they’d be glad to go with you if nobody else will… they’re Zelus and Nike, so it’s not like they’re just hired guns. They’ve been given instructions to treat you like you’re Ian’s grandsons.”

“Why?” Dean frowned. “We can handle ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Aidan put his head on Dean’s shoulder. “We’ve been out loads of times together, nothing’s happened. I think it’s actually more dangerous on set than it is out there. We’ve had more things happen here. What’s the big deal, anyway?”

Graham didn’t want to have to be the bearer of bad news, but it would have been worse if it had come from Ian or Richard. “Look, we’ve got several of Aphrodite’s people who may be in the area. Yes, one is in jail, but there’s at least two others that we know of. Possibly more. You know that an intern caused that accident this week, right?” Dean nodded and Aidan rolled his eyes. “She was being controlled. By Pothos. He’s the God of longing and unrequited love. All he has to do is find someone who’s broken up or lost their lover recently and he has an in. He can get them to do almost anything. He even had that girl slit her wrist.”

Dean shuddered for a moment and rubbed his own wrist. What could drive someone to do something so… drastic? “But we’ve got no intention of breaking up, and I’m immune.”

“You’re immune to a God killing you. That doesn’t mean he won’t find someone to use against you. A mortal may have a tougher time of it, but they can still take you out. That girl was literally talked into almost killing you and then herself. We’d rather you stay on set or with someone to keep you safe, just in case. The dangers went up exponentially.” Graham explained. What he wouldn’t give to be anywhere else right now. The lads were looking more than a little agitated.

“Fran did a lot of work on our clothes, she practically thought of everything that could kill us. We’ll just make sure to wear the clothes she fixed for us and stay in public places.” Dean argued.

Graham wondered if he had any bourbon in his cabinet. He should’ve had them make bourbon chicken, then he could have drank the rest of the bottle. “We’re pretty serious about this. No more going out unescorted. You can still go out, but someone will need to go with and someone else will drive.”

“Oh bloody hell!” Aidan pulled away from Dean. “You’re treating us like damn children!”

“I happen to be over three thousand years old. You boys forget, you ARE children.”

Aidan had enough. He rose, glaring at Graham. “I’m sick and tired of being treated like a kid! Cooking lessons, Greek lessons, being watched over like crazy – just because I’m the youngest of the Dwarves doesn’t mean I’m not an adult! I’m fully grown and can take care of myself!” He fumed. He didn’t wait for Graham to respond. He stormed out the door and slammed it shut behind him. Dean gave Graham an apologetic look and dashed after the younger man.

Graham sat there on the couch for a moment. That had actually gone better than he’d thought it would.

The timer on the oven went off, and Graham was forced to rise so he could check their experiments.

 

********************

 

Dean caught up with Aidan as the Irishman reached Ian’s trailer. The dark-haired actor wasted no time in banging on the door, shouting for Ian to open up or he’d do it for him.

Ian came to the door, eyes red and disheveled. He’d finally gotten some sleep, and of course it had to be interrupted. Damn Irishman. “What is it?” Aidan didn’t bother to answer; he stormed inside and planted himself on the couch. Dean, standing on the steps, bit his lip. “You may as well come in, too. It’s not like I’ll be getting any more rest tonight. Come along.” Dean followed the elder actor in.

Tea was put on and Ian cleared his coffee table of the paperwork he’d been doing before he’d drifted off. It wasn’t easy, running a gaggle of Gods. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Ian asked as he waited for the kettle to boil.

“What the hell is with the bodyguards? We don't need them!” Aidan demanded.

Ian straightened himself up and glared and the young man. “We're trying to keep you safe. We've placed you in a dangerous situation, and we must take steps to counteract that, regardless of how you feel about it.”

“Wrong answer,” Aidan growled. Dean shrank down in his seat on the couch.

“That was the only answer,” Ian countered. He sat down – a watched kettle never boils – in his favourite chair. “What is wrong?”

Aidan licked his lips like he did when he was nervous. “I’m not a child. All of you keep calling me ‘lad’, or ‘kid’, or whatever, and... I’m not. You treat me like I’m dumb sometimes, and I’m not. Richard follows me around makes me feel like he’s a parent and I’m doing something wrong. It all makes me feel…”

“Like a child,” Ian finished. “I can understand that. I can even respect that.” The kettle decided to make itself known, then, and Ian rose to pour them all some tea. He returned with three cups and handed the younger actors theirs before settling down again. “But you must remember where we’re coming from.” He stirred copious amounts of sugar in. “We see, time and time again, young men and women with potential that we want to nurture. We have seen civilizations rise and fall. We have seen humanity go from banging rocks together to speaking to someone thousands of miles away in seconds. There is just so very much out there that you don’t realize.” He put the spoon down and took a sip. Needed more milk. He considered getting up to retrieve the milk, but decided it wasn’t worth it.

“So you treat me like a kid?” Aidan snorted. He hadn’t touched his tea.

“Yes, we do. Because compared to us, that is what you are.” Ian sighed. “You ask questions about the world around you. You see the world so differently than we do. Everything is faded to us. Innovation comes, but will always be beaten by more innovation. War comes and people die. Tides rise and fall. It becomes dull, grey. Through you, we can see the world differently. We see your excitement about learning the old stories; we see your sadness about war.” He glanced at Dean when he said that. “We can see your delight at new technology and surprise about how beautiful this natural world truly is. To us Gods, children are a very precious commodity – you two even more so because you KNOW what we are. You are the sun that illuminates all the things we forget exist.

"You both have younger siblings, correct? Think about the first time you took them to a festival. They were excited, it was new. They asked you questions and wanted to see everything. But you, you'd gone to the same festival a dozen times. You knew there would be a baking contest, a vegetable growing contest, and a sheep shearing contest. All very dull to you. But to them, it was so bright and so new and all you wanted to do was nurture that.

"Do you understand? We cannot help but treat you like children – someone to be taught and protected – because that is how we see you. You can have gold, but it can be spent. You can have gems, but they can be lost. Children, and memories of children, are something that cannot be purchased and cannot be replaced. They are precious.”

Aidan slouched on the couch. “I can’t keep sulking if you say things like THAT,” he complained.

“Then drink your tea and be quiet,” Ian insisted.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Aidan trying to stretch out his sulking as long as possible. Finally, Dean asked “You don’t feel like a kid around me, do you?”

Aidan shrugged. “Yeah, a little.”

“Great, now my boyfriend is calling me old,” Dean smirked.

“No, you’re not… you’re not old. You’re just… older than me.” Aidan nursed his cup of tea and looked down.

“I get it. I’m old. You’re dating and ooooold man. An oooooooold actor. Does that make you a gold-digger?”

Aidan shoved at Dean, trying not to smile. “You’re not old, and I am NOT a gold digger. Shut it right now.”

Ian hid his grin with his teacup. Good. “Now, before we go any further, who did you yell at?”

Dean smirked and found his tea very interesting. Aidan scowled at Ian. “Who says I yelled at anybody?”

“Something had to set you off. Out with it.” Ian made a motion with his hand. “Come on.”

“Graham,” Aidan muttered. “We were waiting for the chicken to cook and he told us you didn’t want us going out alone.”

Ian nodded. “And I don’t. I will do everything in my power to protect the two of you, whether you like it or not. I would have a thundercloud follow you around and zap anyone who gets within two feet of you if necessary.”

“Can you actually do that?” Aidan cocked his head to the side. Ian gave him a smirk and didn’t answer.

“Please don’t do that. Richard’s bad enough, he’s at our trailer whenever he’s not with Lee, and he sometimes brings Lee with. My sex life is really, really beginning to suffer for it.” Dean begged. Aidan gave him a look and ducked his head.

“Then don’t get into trouble. Now, you said you were cooking chicken with Graham?” Ian asked. The boys nodded. “I wonder if it’s done by now…” he picked up his mobile and sent a message to Graham.

Five minutes later, Dean let Graham into Ian’s trailer, the Scotsman carrying the fully cooked platters of chicken. Ian was in the kitchen, making sides to go with them. Graham set the food down carefully on the tiny kitchen table and uncovered it. “How long until your part is done?”

Ian glanced over his food. “The macaroni and cheese has another couple of minutes, but the vegetables are done. Thank you for having dinner with us.” Graham gave Ian a small bow. “Aidan, I believe you have something to say to Graham?”

Aidan chewed on his lip and looked at his shoes. With a not-so-gentle poke from Dean (with the fork he was supposed to be setting the table with), Aidan grumbled. “All right, all right. I’m getting to it! Christ…” He looked up and faced Graham. “I am very sorry for acting stupid and childish earlier. It won’t happen again. As long as Ian’s around.”

“That last part wasn’t in the script,” Ian scolded from the kitchen. “No improv. Stick with the script.”

Aidan heaved a great sigh. “It won’t happen again. I understand that you are all just worried about us because there’s been so many attempts on our lives. If we die before the movie’s done, Peter will kill us." Ian glared at him for a moment. "Hera’s group is crazy and will try to kill us. Again. So we need to be more careful.” He glanced back at Ian and Dean when he finished.

Graham stood in the kitchen (in Dean’s way) for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You gave him a script?” He asked Ian and Dean. Ian gave his old friend an evil grin and Dean chuckled. “Well, apology accepted.” He laughed. “Come on, let’s sit down, the rest will be ready soon. Oh, Ian, you may want to grab the milk, Dean put Cajun spice on his chicken.” Ian cringed and pulled a pint of milk from his fridge.

“What’s wrong with that?” Dean asked as he finished setting the table and sat down.

“Have you ever HAD Cajun?” Ian asked. Dean shook his head. “Well, you’re about to.”

A few minutes later, they had split Aidan’s chicken among Ian, Graham, and Aidan, and left Dean to his own. They all waited, staring at Dean. The Kiwi rolled his eyes and cut a bite of his food. He popped the chicken in his mouth and grinned. Four seconds later, he wasn’t grinning. “HOT! What the hell?”

Ian pushed the pint of milk towards him. “You’ll want to drink that.”

Dean grabbed the milk and chugged it down, then shook his head to rid his mind of the spices. “You could’ve told me about that!”

“And yet another culinary adventure for Dean,” Graham chuckled.

 

************************

 

After they let Dean eat the chicken Aidan had made, the table was cleared, and Graham had taken the dishes back to his trailer for washing, Ian settled into his favourite chair for an impromptu lesson; this one starting with the fable of the scorpion and the frog. After that came many more, and Aidan finally dozed off on the couch, head on Dean’s shoulder and his hand in Dean’s. Dean wasn’t far behind. When Ian woke Dean gently and asked if he wanted to go back to his trailer, Dean shook his head and said that they were trying to wait up for Richard to see how his dinner went. It would be easier to stay awake at Ian’s than at his place.

The Kiwi didn’t drift back off to sleep, but watched Aidan as he dreamed, staring at how his chest rose and fell, how he shifted slightly towards Dean’s warmth. He stared at the dark curls that didn’t stay put no matter how much product Aidan put on them, and at the stubble Aidan was getting because he’d been too lazy to shave that morning. The Irishman had a terrible habit of sleeping with his mouth open, and he was slack-jawed as usual. It was adorable.

“Thank you,” Dean said to Ian.

“Hm?” Ian looked up from the paperwork he’d started again. “Were you talking to me?”

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “You calmed Aid down. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we love Richard and all of you like crazy, but it’s been a bit stressful having someone around all the time – on Aidan more than on me. Me, I really don’t care. I’ve had enough attempts on my life that I’m perfectly happy with someone following me around, as long as I get laid every once in a while. I mean, not with… uh…”

Ian chuckled. “I understand what you meant.”

“Oh, good.” Dean lapsed into silence again. What would Ian say, if Dean told him that he and Aidan had no intention of marrying Athena? Would he continue to protect them? Would he throw them off set and say he wanted no part of them?

“What are you thinking?” Ian asked.

“About Athena… I know you want one of us to marry her, and that’s why you’re so protective…”

“No, Dean.” Ian sighed.

Dean was taken aback. “What?”

“Oh, I want one of you to marry Athena. Martin’s actually been joking that both of you should marry her and that would solve a lot of problems. But I know it’s unrealistic to ask that of you. As for your protection, you’ve become family to me. There is something… something I can’t put my finger on. The Fates whisper to me about you, but I cannot quite hear all they have to say.” Ian gave Dean a grin. “Some things even I do not know. All I know is that you are part of our family, strange as it is.”

“You’re all insane, you know that?” Dean grinned.

“After all these stories I’ve been telling you, you’re just now figuring that out? I worry about you.” Ian joked back.

They lapsed back into silence again, Dean stroking Aidan’s hair and Ian going through copies of the evidence against Himeros (he was extremely grateful that both Dolos and Themis were solicitors on his side). Dean was wondering if he could get Aidan to go to hiking tomorrow with him when they heard a shout outside.

“That was Richard’s voice,” dread washed over Dean. Why would Richard be shouting?

Now, Ian was no spring chicken. He no longer moved with the grace of youth. Usually.

What was it that Tolkien said? ‘The Old that is Strong does not Wither’? He must’ve met Zeus.

Ian was out of his chair and throwing his door open before Dean could rise. He was out the door and weaving in and out of the trailers in an instant. In the darkness, Ian could see Richard fighting with someone, struggling against an arm held aloft and kicking at his attacker. It was too dark to see who the other person was. Ian took in several things at once: First was that Lee was nowhere to be seen. Second, the trailer they were in front of was Dean’s, and the door was wide open. Lastly, Richard was winning. Other actors were coming out of their trailer to see what the noise was about. Not good. How was he supposed to keep his ‘old man’ façade up with the mortals nearby?

“Leave Richard alone or I’ll call security!” Ugh, pathetic. Was that the best he could come up with? If the mortals hadn’t come, he would’ve gladly zapped the attacker with a nice crisp lightning bolt. He was going to have to be more creative. Ian could already hear the thunder rolling in, and felt the storm clouds building. Rain fell in torrents a moment later. Lightning crackled, striking a building nearby. Damn it.

The attacker seemed to pause for half a second, staring at Ian. Then he (it was probably a ‘he’, given the frame) pulled back from Richard and ran. Smart man, if not cowardly. Through the wind and the rain, Richard managed to get Ian to hear “He’s got a knife!”

Most of the actors who had come to see the commotion huddled against the wind and the rain, retreating to doorsteps to watch. Graham turned and sprinted after the attacker, followed closely by Mark. Ian joined the pursuit, using every bit of energy he could get. Screw the storm, he didn’t care about any wind or rain. Pneumonia was the least of his worries.

As the attacker rounded a bend and weaved through the trailers, he passed Ian’s home, spotting Dean and Aidan as they poked their heads through the doorway. He made to head in that direction. Just as Ian and the others rounded the corner, the man made for Dean and Aidan through the open door.

And was abruptly thrown to the ground by a security guard.

The guard and attacker fell to the ground. A second guard, this one built like a seven-foot-tall bear, came at the armed man who had risen and was quickly getting his bearings, uncaring about the knife in his hands. Ian shouted a warning about the weapon.

Just as the larger guard reached the maniac, hands out to grasp the wrist of the man holding the knife, lightning split the sky and cracked to life between them. Both were thrown back, falling to the ground. The knife, which had happily acted like a lightning rod, fell somewhere into the mud. Neither man moved for a moment.

Then the first guard was up again and ran at the enemy, knocking him down and time hitting him several times before sitting on him as he placed handcuffs on the man. The knife-weilding maniac struggled weakly, managing to get one hand up to his head before the guard wrenched it back, but was far too disoriented to do anything else. “You stay there!” Said the guard before he checked on his buddy. “He’s breathing! Al, you can hear me?” The larger guard gave a weak nod. “Good. He’s good!” He gave Al a very hard friendly punch to the shoulder and went back to their captive, making sure he was secure. Al pulled himself to a sitting position and rested while the other guard forced the maniac to stand up. “You think you can work?” Al nodded at his captain. “We can call the medics if you need it.”

“No, Captain Carson. I’ve had worse. It didn’t hit me, it hit the ground. Just disoriented. Ears are ringing a bit.” Al explained.

“Take a few moments,” Carson instructed. As the captain talked into his radio, the captive struggled, slowly getting his bearings. He was too late, Carson had him secured, and he wasn’t going anywhere. “So,” Carson said conversationally, looking at Ian and the others around him. “What is it with your family and homicidal maniacs? Just lucky?”

“C… Carson? From Auckland?” Graham asked.

The security guard nodded. “I took a holiday from police work. I think the stress was getting to me. Pay’s nicer here, too. I’ve got a couple more weeks to decide. Hello.” He gave them a slight wave. His captive struggled again. “Not you. You stay put, or I’ll have Al sit on you.” Al was not a small person. The captive glanced at Al and stopped struggling.

Moments later, other security personnel showed up, taking the captive from Carson. Liz arrived, checking on Al and then Carson, who’d taken a light slice to his arm when he’d tackled the man the first time. Carson actually was depressed that it wouldn’t need stitches, jovially bemoaning the wound as he and Al were herded towards the clinic. As the other security personnel removed the captive from the scene, he passed under a lamp and the Gods were finally able to see the man.

He was muddy and slightly bloody, not to mention bruised, but his features were clearly recognizable despite it all. His golden hair was filthy, but they could still tell the original colour. He was Pothos.

“How the hell did he get on set?” Mark asked Ian. Ian honestly didn’t know. Security had his photo; he couldn’t have gotten in through the gates. Was there a breach in a fence, somewhere? “Come, let’s go dry off. My trailer’s closest.”

“Why get your trailer soaked? It’s not like this,” Graham pointed to the sky, “is going to let up any time soon.”

Graham was, indeed, correct. They were already soaked to the bone. The lightning was calming down, now only hitting the lightning rods they’d set up on the studio’s perimeter. The wind and the rain would last at least another hour, maybe longer. “You’re right.” He turned and pointed to Aidan and Dean, who were still watching, warm and dry, from the trailer. “You two stay there!”

“Not planning to leave!” Dean shouted back.

Good. Ian headed back to Dean’s trailer, where he found Richard sitting just inside, still in his soaked suit and now-ruined shoes. Martin was there, looking weary. Lee sat next to Richard, equally soaked. He must’ve just arrived back. He was holding onto Richard’s hand like it was a lifeline. “What happened?” Ian asked, trying to look calm. He wasn’t sure if it was working or not.

“Dinner went well,” Lee answered. Ian glared at him. “You asked.”

“I came back from dinner with Lee’s parents. The boys wanted to know how it went, so I stopped by. It was dark, I went in. Idiots left it unlocked again. Next thing I know, there’s this guy with a knife trying to kill me, screaming at me. I didn’t even manage to get the lights on.” Richard gripped Lee’s hand tightly. “He got me in the shoulder – Martin’s already patched me up. I managed to get him outside, that’s when you showed up.”

“You really like physical fights with Gods, don’t you? That’s the second one.” Ian shook his head. “Pothos. Looks like he was staking out the boys. Probably mistook you for Aidan or Dean in the dark.”

Lee gave a wry laugh. “You people lead dangerous lives.” He brushed some wet hair away from Richard’s eyes.

“Very,” Ian agreed solemnly. “Would you like to stay the night at my place?” He offered.

Lee looked up at Ian, determination set in his jaw. "No, he'll be at my place. I'll take care of him."

“I’m not one of the boys. I’m fine.” Richard insisted. He still didn't let go Lee's hand, though.

“All right. We’re still meeting there in a few minutes, though. Bring clothes for the boys, they’re staying at my place tonight.” Ian left no room for argument.

Martin got up to find two sets of clothes (thank the stars Aidan had brought most of his clothes to Dean’s trailer). Lee and Richard left for Lee's trailer, where Lee had spare clothes for Richard, anyway. As the two kings walked through the rain, Lee noticed something odd. Every single trailer had their lights on, the chaos had awoken the entire cast, even if they weren’t willing to go out in the rain. All but one, easily seen from his trailer. He fussed at Richard to take a hot shower and put on dry clothes, saying he'd be back shortly.

“Evangeline?” Lee wandered towards her door. He tried the handle. Unlocked. He pushed it open. No answer. He turned the lights on as he headed through the trailer. “Eva? Hey, you in here?” He wandered towards the bedroom. He knocked, but got no response. Carefully opening the door, Lee peered in. Evangeline was asleep peacefully in her bed, blankets covering her. On the opposite side of the bed, the blankets had been thrown back, as though someone had gotten up. The actress didn’t stir. It didn’t feel right. Lee moved to Evangeline’s side of the bed and shook her.

No response.

He checked for a pulse. It was there. “Thank God!” He pulled out his mobile and dialed the first person he could think of – Liz. “Hi, Liz, we’ve got a problem. Evangeline, she’s in her trailer, but she’s not responding to me. Yeah, I did that, she’s alive. Breathing? How do I check for that?” He listened for a moment, then put the mobile phone in front of Evangeline’s mouth. Her breath fogged the screen. He pulled it back. “She’s breathing. I... I’ll stay with her until you get here.” He didn’t want to leave Evangeline, but Richard needed him, too.

Liz wasn’t long in coming, complete with an assistant – one of the security guards. She wasted no time, checking the woman’s vitals and shining a light in her eyes before telling the assistant to go back and retrieve something from the clinic. While the assistant was gone, Liz asked Lee to do a favor for her. “Check for pill bottles. Any medications out of place." Lee did a quick walk-through, finishing just as the assistant returned, but couldn’t find anything. He reported that to Liz while the doctor poured something black down Evangeline’s throat. Liz’s eyes widened when she Lee told her he’d found nothing. “You’re certain?”

“Only things she keeps are ibuprofen and cold medicine, and that’s all I found. She’s really anti-medicine.” Lee answered, shifting nervously. “Mind if I head back? I mean, she’s in good hands, right?”

“She should be fine,” Liz sounded distracted. She motioned to the assistant again. “Call them and see if their guy has any pills on him. I have a bad feeling…”

Lee left then, not wanting to intervene in business that was not his own. He went back to check on his Richard. When he arrived, Ian had taken over his couch. Apparently, Martin had gone to check on the boys while Ian worried over his youngest son. Nosy bastard.

Before Lee could tell him off - he HAD told Ian that he would take care of Richard, and so what if Ian was a God, it was still Lee's trailer - Ian’s phone went off. He switched it to speaker phone. “Are Carson and… That other security person… all right?” Ian asked as Lee fumed.

“They’re fine,” Liz answered. “Looks like Evangeline is going to be, too. Lee found her fast enough, we got some charcoal in her system to absorb the toxin.”

“Toxin?” Ian’s eyes widened. “Lee, do you know about this?”

“I found her unconscious and called Liz. She said Evangeline was going to be fine, so I came back to take care of Richard.” Lee scowled at the God and crossed his arms.

“He did the right thing, Ian. Nothing else he could have done. I think… well… our attacker had Hydrocodone on him, looks like he gave it to Evangeline. It doesn’t seem to be enough to cause an overdose. Lee said she doesn’t keep a lot of medicine; she probably had no idea what it was.” Liz explained.

“He got in using Evangeline?” Martin asked. “How? Pothos’s abilities only work on people who are heartbroken or have unrequited love.”

Lee looked at the the ground. “Crap.” He muttered. “That’s… I think that’s our fault. We were drunk, she came over, it just happened." Lee explained quietly.

Ian took a calming breath. “Tell me you didn’t…”

Richard, fresh from the shower and wearing pyjama bottoms, stepped into the room. "Fine, I’ll tell you we didn’t. But it’s a lie.” He looked down at the floor. The walls were apparently fairly thin.

“You two… what... what were you thinking?" Ian looked horrified.

“It wasn’t intentional! We didn’t think there was an… emotional element. It was just three people who were being… friends with benefits.” Lee sighed.

Richard sat down next to Lee. “How were we supposed to know that Pothos could use that to hurt her?”

“You couldn’t. You don’t have the history. You're still learning it. It could have been much worse.” Ian said quietly. “However, you have learned a very important lesson about what happens to Greeks that sleep around. It’s never a good idea.”

“Didn’t you…” Lee pointed at Ian.

“Oh, yes, I did. That’s why I know it’s such a bad idea.” Ian gave him a wry grin. “By the way, you’re making this up to Evangeline."

Richard nodded. Right now, Evangeline could kick him in the balls and he’d know he deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially had no intention of bringing Carson back, but I liked his character too much. And also, I think he's to genial to be a cop.
> 
> As usual, questions, comments, constructive criticism are all welcome!


	18. Playing Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, it's time for a bit of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this chapter feels a little disjointed, but it can't really be helped.

“I am the God of music, of medicine, of light!” Martin shouted.

“You still fucking cheated! You can’t grab the ball and throw it!” Aidan shouted back.

“Really? Where in the rule book does it say that?” Martin countered, giving Aidan the finger.

“It’s table tennis! There is no rule book, you twat!”

Benedict and Dean watched the whole thing from the sidelines. “Worst part is, he’d win without cheating.” Dean sighed. “Is he usually this competitive?”

“No, he’s usually worse. It’s in his nature.” Benedict shrugged as they watched the verbal sparring match, looking from one actor at one end of the table to the other as if the ball was still in play. “Think we’ll ever get a turn?” Until Martin and Aidan left the table, they couldn’t play their round. Not that it would be hard to remove them… but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Martin could bite, and apparently Aidan kicked people, if Dean was telling the truth.

“Nope. Ten quid says that Aidan’ll storm off and I’ll have to chase him down.” Dean looked annoyed. “Irish temper.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow. “Well, at least you get angry sex out of it. I just get to keep Martin from calling his wife while he’s angry. Last time he did that, she told him not to come home for two weeks. Greeks get so stupidly angry it’s funny.”

“Actually, Aidan’s not big on angry sex. He sulks and plays video games when he’s angry.” Dean sighed. “But you are right about the Greeks. They can really, really carry a vendetta.”

“Hm…” Benedict nodded. “Glad I’m a Norse. Speaking of which, your Richard hates me. It’s not because we Norse took over England a few times, is it?”

Dean hung his head. “He’s not mine. If he’s anybody’s he’s Lee’s. As far as hating you…He’s got this whole tribal thing going, it pops up at the weirdest times. But he can find people like you wouldn’t believe. Now, he still uses his mobile’s GPS to find his favourite pub, but damn if he doesn’t know where we are every time we try to hide from him.”

“Sounds like a fun game,” Benedict grinned.

“Oh, it is. One time, we went and hid in downtown Wellington, stayed in this run-down old theater you could only get to by going through a restaurant, hid there for hours watching a movie marathon. By the time he got to us, he was swearing that he’d kill us. Turns out he couldn’t figure out how to get in the theater.” Dean laughed. At this point, Aidan picked up his paddle and threw it at Martin, who wisely ducked. “Oh, for the love of… Aid, it’s just a game!”

“Just a game? He’s a fucking cheater, and you’re saying it’s just a game?” Aidan sounded incredulous.

“Funny, because you say I’m cheating whenever I use the flamethrower in our video games, but you don’t throw things at me…” Dean reflected, looking innocent. “Martin would win, anyway. You do realize he’s just giving you hell, don’t you?”

Aidan glared at his boyfriend.

“Martin, just apologize. Please? I really, really want to play. I’m only here another week.” Benedict pouted. “We must have a Bragi versus Bragi, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m sorry he sucks at table tennis?” Martin shrugged. Benedict glared. “Fine, I’m sorry for bending rules.”

“Bending?” Aidan raised an eyebrow.

Martin crossed his arms. “That’s as good as you’re getting from me, brat.”

“I am not a brat. Most of the time.”Aidan scowled.

“Yes, you are.” Peter’s voice floated into the building. “Morning, gents.” He was sipping from an extremely large coffee cup, complete with a lid and straw, and was staring at the script in his hand as he walked. It was a wonder he didn’t trip on something. Must’ve been that low centre of balance that kept him from falling over.

“Morning,” Benedict nodded. “How’s tricks?”

“Fine,” Peter said before drinking more of the liquid life. Coffee truly was his weakness.

“What about… yesterday?” Martin asked. “I couldn’t patch up the security guys, are they okay?”

“Hm? Oh, Carson is fine, just a minor cut. I’m glad I hired him, best decision I ever made. I heard he really took on Pothos in hand-to-hand combat. I need to give him a raise. That other one was perfectly fine, no injuries. He wouldn’t even stay in the clinic, dashed out saying he needed to check on his family before Liz could even introduce herself.” Peter shrugged. “Strange boy, that one.”

Animosity about cheating in the game forgotten, Aidan leaned on the table, looking down. “What about Evangeline? I heard that she…”

How was he supposed to go over the changes with Martin and Benedict if nobody shut up long enough for him to talk? Peter sighed. “Evangeline is… doing better.”

“Is she taking visitors?” Dean asked. When they’d tried to see her earlier, she’d stayed hidden in the clinic and refused to see anyone. Liz had ‘shooed’ them out without a second thought.

“No, but she needs them. I think it would be a great idea for you two to go see her. She could do with some cheering up.” Peter grinned. Perfect way to get them out of his hair for a while. Dean gave Aidan a look, and the Irishman gave Martin one last glare before heading towards the door. When Benedict turned to follow him, the director grabbed onto his shirt and tugged him back. “Not you. You’re working.”

“Blast it. Dean, you still owe a game! And ten quid! Oh, and I've got a present for you two, don't let me forget it! ” Benedict called as the Dwarven princes retreated.

Aidan and Dean made their escape, dashing off to Aidan’s trailer before heading to the clinic. There, they found Aidan’s stash of chocolate bars and chose three or four as a peace offering. Women like chocolate, right? They couldn’t figure out how to get real flowers quickly, so they stole some silk ones from the supplies for the Hobbiton sets. Hopefully Peter wouldn’t notice. Then again, they realized they were being trailed by one of the security personnel the whole time, so it was very likely that Peter would find out. Oh, well.

Neither one said anything about the extra security being placed on them. Last night had made it perfectly clear that nowhere was safe; and they were both grateful to Richard and the guards who had stopped Pothos. Whatever complaints they had about being watched over evaporated long before the rain had.

The clinic was not as empty as they expected it to be. When they arrived, an enormous man – he had to be seven feet tall and three hundred pounds – wearing a security uniform and bearing a name tag that said ‘Al Murphy’ was barring the door. “ID’s.” He simply said.

Dean balked. “We’re two of the stars.”

“That’s nice. ID’s.” Al held out a gloved hand expectantly.

“You’re joking,” Aidan laughed.

“No ID, no getting in. Sorry, but this is a high-security area right now.” The security guard didn’t budge.

“We don’t carry our ID’s around set!” Dean protested.

Something crackled over Al’s radio, and he listened closely, holding it up to his ear. He paused, looked up to where the guard shadowing Dean and Aidan was currently hiding, and said “Told me earlier, you should have.” In a voice that was a dead-ringer for Yoda. He moved aside to let the two of them in. In his regular voice, a gruff, frightening thing, he said: “Boss says you’re okay. Keep your hands to yourself, don’t touch anything you’re not supposed to, which also includes people. You make anybody cry, I will throw you out of here. Literally. And don’t think I can’t do it.”

“Psycho,” Aidan muttered under his breath as he entered. The guard either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.

Inside the clinic was Evangeline, sitting on the bed with red-rimmed eyes and a sterile-looking blanket tucked around her. She had brought her knees up, leaning on them as she watched her other two visitors move a pair of chairs from the empty office. Richard and Lee. Lee looked a mess, and Richard wasn’t his usual dapper self. Despite the state of the three of them, Evangeline was smiling in that happy and sad at the same time type of way that most actors never could manage. It looked like the American and Englishman had beaten the Irishman and Kiwi by mere minutes.  


While Richard and Lee set up their chairs on one side of Evangeline, a small man with green and blue hair was glaring at them from his seat on the other side of the actress. Aidan was pretty sure he’d seen the man on set, somewhere. In yet another chair, tucked into the corner as if she were hiding, sat an assistant from the set, calmly reading a book with her legs tucked under her.

“Wow… you’ve… ah… got quite the party going on. If we’d known, we would’ve brought biscuits.” Aidan fidgeted, trying to look relaxed.

“We brought you stuff,” Dean said, handing the chocolate and flowers over to Evangeline. “You know, because we thought you would kill us if we didn't.”

“Oh, flowers! Thank you!” She took the makeshift bouquet, smiling a bit. “They’re gorgeous… and familiar… where did you get these?” Dean ducked his head, and Evangeline laughed quietly. “Oh, and chocolate. I could use this right now.” She ripped open a bar and devoured half of it. The blue-haired male sitting next to her motioned at the assistant in the corner, who got up and retrieved a bottle of water for Evangeline from the fridge before settling back in her seat. “It’s been a bad day. Night. Day and night.”

“If they’re being mean to you, we can throw them out.” Dean motioned at Lee and Richard. He knew perfectly well he couldn’t throw them out, but it was the thought that counted, right?

“No, don’t. They needed to be here. We were just… talking. I did something very stupid because I was mad at them… we needed to talk.” Evangeline nodded at the older actors.

“We all acted stupid,” Lee admitted.

“Incredibly stupid,” Richard agreed.

“Oh, wow. I wish I had a camera. Richard admitting he did something stupid.” Aidan looked surprised. Dean nudged him and shook his head. “Right… so… aside from something stupid, are you okay?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Evangeline looked miserable. “If anyone wants to give them the Cliff Notes version, that’s fine by me.”

The blue/green haired guy spoke up. “Short, short, short version – guy that she met talked her into letting him on set. Guy was a crazy person and apparently was going to try to kill you. Evangeline should NOT be blaming herself for that.” He glared at her, then looked back at the boys. “He told her the stuff he gave her was stomach ache medicine, it wasn’t. I’m willing to bet he gave you something to make the stomach ache. If I ever see him, I will happily disembowel him. With a spoon. A rusty spoon.” The guy looked far too… perky about that.

“Wow, okay, weirdo gives weird answer.” Dean nodded.

“He’s a friend of mine,” Evangeline cut in. “Diz, this is Dumb and Dumber. Dumb and Dumber, Diz.” Diz waved as though she hadn’t insulted her coworkers. “Vi over there is his sister, she’s been tasked with making sure I’m comfortable, apparently.” The girl in the corner nodded at them and went back to her book.

Dean held out a hand to Diz. “Nice to meet you. I’m apparently Dumb.”

Diz gave the hand a look and a frown. “I’ve got a cold, I don’t want anyone to catch it.” Diz gave Dean a weak smile. “Sorry. No offense.”

“None taken. Acting sucks when you’re sick.” Dean nodded pleasantly. “Hello.” He waved at Vi. She gave him a small smile.

“She’s really, really shy.” Diz explained. “Especially around guys. Guys she doesn’t know. Handsome guys she doesn’t know. Go anywhere near my sister without my O.K. and I will skin you alive with the rusty spoon. After I’ve used it to disembowel the other guy.”

“Wow… uhm… is he normally this overprotective?” Aidan asked Vi, pointing at Diz.

Vi was quiet for a moment before answering. “No. He was worse earlier today.”

“Ah. Okay.” Aidan shuffled farther away from the blue-haired young man. “Nice to meet you, mate. Miss.” He nodded at Vi. She flashed a smile. 

“Well, we’ve ah, said hi, and given you flowers and chocolate, and we really should be going. Y’know, since you’ve got company and all.” Dean motioned to Richard and Lee. “Don’t want to make a party of it.”

Evangeline nodded at him. “Thank you for stopping by.”

  


************************************  


  


As Thorin’s nephews left, Richard made sure to tell them that James wanted to see them, something about a promise to do something crazy. After securing a promise from the young princes that they would not be doing anything involving nudity or danger, Richard let them go.

“You’re very protective of them,” Evangeline noted.

Richard shrugged. “I don’t have any children, but they remind me of what it could be like to be a parent. There are days I’d like to kill them, but then there are good days, too. I suppose I’ve adopted them. Or they’ve adopted me.”

Lee coughed. “Lots of that going around.” Richard glared at him.

“Speaking of families and relationships, I think we need to have a talk.” Evangeline sighed. “A serious one.”

“Maybe you should get some rest. It’s been a very long day and you know you could use it…” Lee stuttered, rising from his chair. He started towards the door. Evangeline watched, surprised.

Diz called out from his seat next to Evangeline. “Hey, Al, stop him!” 

A few seconds later, Lee returned, literally being carried by the security guard. “No problems, right little guy?” He grinned as he set the actor back down.

Lee’s dignity shot, he sat back down, glancing warily at the enormous security guard who retreated back outside. “You know, I don’t remember them saying they were your bodyguards.”

“I don’t remember saying we weren’t,” Diz grinned. “She’s our friend, we’re going to protect her. We like her.”

Evangeline gave them a charming grin and reached out to squeeze Diz’s hand. “I appreciate it, but I don’t want anyone hearing this conversation. I think this is a little more private than I want to share.”

“We can step outside,” Vi suggested. Diz turned and glared at her. “You’re worrying too much. Nothing will happen if we just step outside. Al will be there to guard. I could use some sunshine, anyway.” She rose and tugged at her brother. “Come on, out.” He protested, but Vi silenced him with “It’s a girl thing.”

“That’s your excuse for everything!” Diz argued. “Evangeline, if you need someone, just give me a call!”

As they left, Vi gave Evangeline a grin. The actress nodded her thanks. “All right, gentlemen,” Evangeline leaned over and grabbed some tissues from the side table, then opened up another bar of chocolate. She was fairly sure she was going to need them. “Let’s talk.”

  


**************************************  


  


“Isn’t she beautiful?” James asked, crossing his arms.

Dean was taken aback. “Absolutely.”

“Damn. She is gorgeous.” Aidan agreed.

James ran his hands over the intentionally dulled chrome. “Took me over a month.” He looked proud. “You have no idea what went into her.”

Aidan toyed with the handlebar. “You couldn’t just conjure it?”

“Nope. Too complex. The engine was too difficult. As it was, I had to look at schematics on this baby for almost every single part. Had to get it right, you know. There were a few times I didn’t, I had to go back and conjure the part again. Some books were wrong, too. She’s finally put together and running, though. A perfect replica."  


Sitting in front of the three of them was a beautifully finished World War II motorcycle, a Triumph. Everything about it was perfect, from the details on the paint job to the grips on the handlebars. She was a stunning example of what James could do when he put his mind to it.

“What’s your wife going to say?” Dean asked.

James sighed. “Let’s not get into that. So… which one of you wants to ride her first?”

“Wait, you should do her maiden voyage.” Dean argued.

“Already did. She runs like a dream. Makes me wish I’d had one during the war.” James’s eyes unfocused for a moment before he shook he head and brought himself back. “Go ahead. Try her out.”

“Who first?” Aidan asked, reaching for the handlebars.

“Not you,” James laughed. “Dean first, he’s more responsible. Probably. Maybe. I think.”

After a quick ‘how not to kill yourself on a motorbike’ lesson from James, Dean took the bike to the road, riding her down the block and back, not going out of James’s sight. It was heaven. The wind in his face, the purr of the motor, the rumble between his legs, the pure danger after being watched every moment. He didn’t want to give the bike over to Aidan, but did so. He watched as his Aidan took it for a ride, saw the joy in his boyfriend’s face when he returned.

Aidan bounced up to them after his ride. “That was fucking incredible!”

James laughed. “I thought you’d like it.”

Dean and Aidan glanced at one another, then nodded. “We want one. Each.” They said in unison to James.

James faltered. Perhaps he hadn’t thought this particular mid-life crisis through.

  


******************************  


  


Peter took a deep breath as he re-read the letter a fourth time. No typos, no errors. He exhaled. Fran squeezed his shoulder. “All right, send it out.”

The press release was simple and to the point. It had the movie’s title, the theatrical release date, and a list of all the actors involved. The best way to send a message was to be to the point. He could do that. He moved the mouse of his laptop to the ‘send’ button, doing his best to keep his hand from shaking, and clicked. Instantly, the attached letter was sent out to news stations worldwide: from Bangladesh to Barbados. Wellington to Wales. The news was out. He had a set date for the theatrical release.

It was too bad that he’d had to send via email, none of his powers worked through the internet, and he’d been forced to refrain from trying to put underlying messages or secondary spells on the press release. Damn Digital Age. “All right. We’ve unleashed the beast.” Peter relaxed into his chair. “Not even done filming, yet, either.”

James grunted from his spot next to Peter. “We’ll get it done, lad. We’ve got time. Here…” He wiggled his fingers and made three cups of tea appear on the table. “For your nerves.”

Peter tried to calm down, but wound up drinking the whole cup in one go. Dammit, he was a God, not some sort of ragamuffin with a cell-phone camera. He gave James an imploring look. The God of Mortality took pity on him and conjured a whole pot. Fran poured her husband some more tea, Peter's hands were shaking too badly to do so.

“We’ve done everything we can. We just have to make sure the movie doesn’t suck.” Peter sighed. “If it doesn’t get Athena’s attention, I don’t know what will.”

Fran kissed her husband on the cheek. “It will. It has to. She’ll come looking. We’re Gods, our curiosity always gets the best of us. I’ve got an interview scheduled for the entire cast next week, then some alone-interviews for our boys. I wonder which one she’ll pick. You know, they’ve been fairly good lately, haven’t gotten themselves into trouble.”

James bit his tongue. Oh, if she only knew.

  


*****************************  


  


Aidan and Dean were enjoying a meal of fish and chips at the picnic tables when Benedict dropped something down in front of them. “Look what I found! I brought them with from England just for you two, I wanted to be sure you got them before I left.” He looked… positively pleased with himself.

Aidan poked at the stack of thin, brightly coloured books on the table. “Comics?”

Benedict nodded. “American comics! They were Athena’s last go-around! Well, she was from Belgium that time, but Dionysus was American, he bought them for her when she was younger. She bequeathed them to me upon her death, thought I’d like them. She loved them. I thought you two could go through them, get a sense of her. Y’know, since…”

Dean scowled and pulled Benedict to sit on the picnic bench. “Could you please be a little quieter? We really don’t want the entire crew knowing!” He hissed. It was already far enough out of hand.

Aidan leafed through one of the books. “This is some old-style artwork.”

“Oh, some of them are first-run prints, so they’re pretty old.” Benedict grinned. “Don’t worry about any damage, they’ve been well-loved, so they’re not mint. Simon thinks I’m crazy for reading them. Says I’m damaging the value.”

“First… run?” Dean choked a bit on his lunch. “Benedict, do you know how much some of these are worth?”

“They’re not what I’d call great literature. They’re just fun.” Benedict argued.

“Some of these probably aren’t worth anything. ‘Detective Comics, issue 1’. Who’s ever heard of Detective Comics?” Aidan laughed.

Dean sprang up from his seat, wiped his hands on his pants to get rid of the oils from his chips , and took the book carefully away from Aidan. “I have! Don’t you know, that’s Batman! You have the Holy Grail of Batman!”

Aidan gave his boyfriend a funny look. “Nerd.”

“Shove off. I just know some things about comics, okay?” Dean mock-scowled.

“Do you want them or not?” Benedict asked, stealing one of Aidan’s chips. Aidan slapped has his hands, though it didn’t help.

“You’re… GIVING them to us?” Dean balked.

“You still have to give me ten quid, but not for the books. Like I said, not great literature. Now, if I could get a hold of Athena’s magazines that had the original Sherlock Holmes tales, I wouldn’t give those up for anything. Ian’s got those, though. Seriously, I read the comics, I enjoyed the comics, I’m passing them on. What good are they if they’re stuck in a box somewhere? Books are meant to be READ.” Benedict stole some more of Aidan’s chips. Sneaky bastard. Aidan moved his chips to the other side of the table. “You WILL read them, right? I’m not going to give them to you if you’re going to hide them away like a squirrel.”

“Ben, you can’t just READ these!” Dean sounded scandalized. Aidan snickered, so Dean reached over and poked Aidan’s ribs. His Irishman was ticklish. Aidan jumped and pretended to ward Dean off with his fork. “Seriously, you can’t.”

“What else would you do with them? The value of a book is in the contents. Enjoy them.” Benedict laughed. "Oh, by the way, Bragi versus Bragi table tennis match tomorrow morning?"  


  
Dean looked stunned. Benedict was giving him treasures beyond value, and all he wanted was the money from the bet and a table tennis match? Gods were strange. "Sure, tomorrow."  


Two hours later, in Dean’s trailer, Aidan was flipping through the books, trying to be very careful not to damage them. Dean would kill him if he damaged them. They were certainly old, the dialogue ridiculous at best, and the artwork was nowhere near as complex as he’d seen in modern comics. Still, they were fun. He’d snuck a peek while Dean was in the shower (of the comics, not Dean. He already knew what Dean in the shower looked like, thank you very much), and had wound up reading the entire thing. Then the next one. He was on the third when Dean emerged from the shower, toweling off his hair and wearing his pyjama pants.

“Thought you didn’t like comics,” Dean asked, grabbing a beer from his fridge.

“Meh. It’s growing on me.” Aidan didn’t look up from the book.

Dean cracked the beer and took a few swigs before sauntering into the living area. “Uh-huh. I thought it was nerdy.”

“Hey, I’m not the one with Star Wars toys at his home in Auckland, thank you.” Aidan countered.

“You going to look up from that book?”

“Hold on, I’m almost done.”

“You realize those books always end on cliffhangers. Otherwise, you’d never buy the next one. It’s actually better if you find a spot to stop partway through.” Dean commented.

“Mm-hm,” Aidan clearly wasn’t paying any attention.

Dean set the beer down on the counter and smirked to himself. He was not going to play second fiddle to a comic book. He calmly strode over, carefully removed the book from Aidan’s lap, and replaced it with… himself. Straddling the Irishman’s lap, one leg on each side, Dean wrapped his arms around a very startled Aidan’s neck. “Hello, there.”

Aidan very nearly protested the loss of his comic before Dean replaced it with something a little more… interesting. “Hello yourself, you imp.”

“Thought you didn’t believe in imps and vampires and ghosts?” Dean teased as he worked Aidan’s shirt off of him. He gently kissed Aidan’s throat as soon as the shirt was gone, mimicking a vampire’s bite towards the end.

Aidan tilted his head back slightly. “Christ! For you, I’d believe in faeries.”

“On this set, it’s a possibility,” Dean chuckled. He kissed his lover, slow and sweet, while shifting slightly on Aidan’s lap – just enough to torment his curly-haired sweetheart. Aidan responded enthusiastically, comic book long forgotten.

Dean tasted like beer and smelt like soap. A very good combination, in Aidan’s opinion. The Kiwi was still damp from the shower, creating more friction where their chests met. His hands fluttered over Aidan’s now-bare chest, over the most sensitive parts – just enough to tease, not enough to tickle. Aidan was sure he was in heaven. He was with the best guy in the universe – who put up will all his strange habits without too much complaint – on the set of an historical movie. Not that working mattered right now. He had his Dean and that was more than enough. When Dean shifted his hips, Aidan let out a hiss and moved to compliment his adorable artist. “Damn you, Dean.” Aidan muttered.

Dean smirked into their kisses, reaching for the button on Aidan’s jeans.

“Evening gentlemen, looks like you’re having a fun time.”

“Son of a BITCH!” Aidan shouted, breaking away from Dean. “Rich, what the FUCK! PRIVACY!”

Dean dropped his forehead onto Aidan’s shoulder. Damn it, he’d forgotten to bolt the door. “Richard, you have three seconds to explain or I am going to kill you.”

“I told you earlier I’d be stopping by tonight, remember?” Richard said calmly, tossing his pack onto the dining table. “Lee will be here in about half an hour.”

“No, I don’t remember!” Dean scowled, not moving from his spot on Aidan’s lap. “You… you… asshole!" Aidan hissed again when Dean shifted. "Richard! Get out!”

“Nope,” Richard said calmly, pulling a book out of his pack and taking up his usual seat at the dining table. “You two should know better by now, you can’t get rid of me.”

“Motherfucker…” Aidan groaned. He shoved at Dean until the blonde was standing, grabbed onto Dean’s hand, and dragged him towards the bedroom. “You come in here, I will kill you!” Aidan shouted at Richard.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean tugged back for just a moment. He stepped over to a cupboard, still holding onto Aidan, and pulled a bottle from the shelf. Chocolate syrup. “My sweet tooth is calling to me.” He explained to Aidan. The younger man grinned and hurriedly tugged his lover towards the bedroom. Moments later, loud music began to play, drowning out anything else Richard could have heard from that end of the trailer.

Richard waited until he was sure they weren’t going to come back out for anything before pulling his mobile out of his back. “Evening, Eva… Yes, they were entertaining themselves. You should have seen their faces… No, they didn’t stop… just moved locations. I think they believe it’ll make me uncomfortable enough to leave… Not sure, on one hand, it’s pretty funny. On the other, I’m not very enthused about it. It’s like knowing your child is… No, I don’t have any children, but I can assume… You’re welcome, it was no trouble. Really, it’s revenge for both of us – they like trying to hide from me to see how long it’ll take for me to find them… Yes, I’ll probably head back to my trailer, I already know more than I ever wanted to… you have a pleasant night, too.” Richard ended the call and packed up his belongings before heading out, being sure to lock the door behind him.

Lee would be waiting for him at his trailer.  


Come to think of it, Lee did love chocolate...

From the bedroom window, a set of brown eyes watched Richard leave. “He’s gone,” Aidan grinned up at Dean. Dean sped out of the bedroom, bolted the front door, and met Aidan back at the couch. “You didn’t think he’d really believe you were going to use this, did you?” He waved the chocolate syrup bottle

“Why not?” Dean asked, pushing Aidan back onto the couch where they’d been only moments before.

“I’m fuzzy. Do you know how long it would take to get it off of me?” Aidan laughed, happily succumbing to Dean.

Dean pulled back for a moment. “No, but I’d like to find out…” He grinned evilly and leaned forward, silencing any protestations from the Irishman.

  


************************  


  


The poor interviewer was regretting ever wanting to get involved in this project. Really, at this point, hiding under a rock would be a better idea. How could he publish this interview? Whose idea was it to interview ALL the Dwarves? They kept going off-track, they were all hyper, and half the time they didn’t want to give a straight answer! Worst of all, the older actors had all abandoned him, leaving him with just Aidan, Adam, and Dean.

All three of which were intentionally putting him through hell.

And they were obviously enjoying it.

After they finally got off the topic of slingshots, swords, and the other random things the three had come up with, the interviewer excused himself hurriedly, taking his notes and his digital voice recording and escaping as fast as he could.

Adam watched as the interviewer left. “Wonder what his problem is.”

Aidan shrugged. “Maybe he had to hit the bog.” He clapped his hands together and grinned. “So, what’s on the schedule for tonight, gents?”

“Pub run? I haven’t gone with you two in ages.” Adam suggested.

Aidan and Dean glanced at each other. “Only if you want Security following you. We got into a bit of trouble, Peter’s pretty mad. We’ve had a shadow ever since.” Dean explained.

“What did you do?” Adam asked as he collected the rest of his costume and followed them out of the interview room

“You don’t wanna know…” Aidan laughed.

Adam shook his head. Did those two never learn to not get into mischief? Surely Dean knew better, at the very least! “Fine, no pub. Hey, you two are friends with Benedict, right? Maybe we could stop by there.”

That sounded like fun. Benedict was one of the most interesting people on set, especially when you played trivia games. It wasn’t that he’d always win them (because he could, he knew what the card you were holding said), but it was because of the random answers he gave when you KNEW that he knew the right answer. Answers like ‘The Tower of London contained which Queens of England for a short time?’ ‘Freddie Mercury!’ Things like that. But a stop at Benedict’s trailer revealed no-one to be home. Likewise with Martin and Graham, which told Aidan and Dean exactly where Benedict was. Stupid Gods and their meetings. Stephen was in his trailer, and although he didn’t want them to come in, claiming a mess, he did join them in their quest for fun.

The lights were on in Evangeline’s trailer, and the quartet heard laughter and music emitting from it. Well, it was a good a place as any.

Evangeline answered when they knocked, looking flushed and joyful. “Oh, evening.”

“We’re bored!” Stephen called out from the back of the group. “You sound like you’re having fun.”

“You can come in if you want, but we’re just playing a game.” Evangeline grinned. “It’s not anybody you’d know.”

“New people?” Aidan poked his head in.

“Just friends that aren’t actors,” Evangeline shoved at Aidan’s head. “You should ask before doing that. What if we were playing strip poker?”  


"Already did that. Lost miserably. Adam here is a shark at it.” Aidan shrugged. Adam tried not laugh. Stephen didn’t bother with trying, it was just too good.

Dean sighed. “You REALLY don’t think before you talk, do you?”

“How d’you figure that?” Aidan asked. 

“Nevermind,” Dean tried to suppress a blush. The memories washed over him: of Aidan sitting next to him, having lost his skivvies to the betting pool, trying not to look at his nude best friend. It felt like ages ago. Back then, he’d never thought he and Aidan would have become... well… Aidan was HIS, and he wasn’t going to give up the Irishman any time soon. “May we come in?” He asked Evangeline, trying to make his brain stop flashing him memories of Aidan sans clothing. It wasn’t easy. Hopefully nobody would notice his body’s reaction to his evil mind going over things that were certainly inappropriate in this setting.

“Of course,” Evangeline opened the door a bit wider, letting the four actors in.

Inside, the girl Dean recognized from the clinic when they’d gone to visit Evangeline was seated on the couch. Another person, much shorter than Dean, was standing in the middle of the small room with a lampshade on his head. The bloke with the lampshade hat pulled it up slightly and grinned. “Oh, look, it’s rusty-spoon guys.” He sounded… positively cheerful about that. He glanced at Adam and Stephen and gave them a sunny smile. “Hello, I’m Eva’s make-up artist, Diz. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you follow her everywhere?” Stephen asked, cocking his head to the side. He’d never had HIS make-up artist spend time with him.

The girl gave them a small smile. “It’s how he makes friends. You can’t get rid of him, once he’s decided he’s going to be friends with you. It’s easier to just give up and be friends. I wish I was kidding. Last person who tried to avoid him after he decided he wanted to be friends wound up living with him for two years. I'm-“

“Vi,” Dean grinned. “Hello again.” He nodded at her. “You really stick close to him.”

Vi shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. YOU try getting rid of him. I haven't figured it out, yet.”

“What were you doing?” Adam asked, poking at Diz’s lampshade.

“They came to cheer me up after... well, yes. We're doing charades.To music.” Evangeline explained. “Care to join us? Charades is always more fun with more people.”

They laughed, cheered, and occasionally danced - every time a song popped up that Aidan liked, he demanded that SOMEONE had to dance with him. Most of the time, it was Dean. Evangeline danced to a few songs. When both of them refused, Aidan tried to get Vi to dance with him, only to find out that Diz heartily disapproved of him. They made Adam dance with him instead. Adam was a terrible dancer, but it was funny as hell.

Half an hour later, knocking at the door brought everyone back to reality. Evangeline opened it to find someone she didn’t recognize standing on the step. “Hello?”

“Carson. I’m with security. Look, this is going to sound crazy, but it’s really cold out here. I’m supposed to be watching Mister O’Gorman and Mister Turner. Can I please come inside? Please?”

Evangeline turned back to look at Aidan and Dean. “You two have a bodyguard?”

Dean sighed and Aidan groaned. “Christ. Might as well let him in.”

The security guard stepped through the door. “Hello, everyone! Nice to meet you!" He gave them a winning smile while rubbing his hands to warm them back up.  


"Hello, security-dude-person!" Stephen cheerfully waved back. "Hey, we've got enough people for teams now! I'm on Eva's team!"  


Carson grinned. They were certainly fast to accept new people. Maybe it had something to do with their line of work. He moved to the couch and motioned to an empty spot next to Vi, where Diz had been moments before. “May I have a seat next to you?”

“No,” Diz said from the kitchen where he'd been restocking the snack bowl.

“Of course,” Vi motioned to the spot next to her, blithely ignoring her brother. "I'm Vi."  


"Vi. Pleasure to meet you." Carson grinned as he took the seat, shaking her hand as soon as he was settled. Then, he glared at Aidan and Dean. “All right, I’m supposed to be watching you, so please don’t do anything stupid until my shift is off, deal?”

Dean laughed. “Deal. Okay, Aid and I are on a team, and we're taking Adam and Carson.”

The laughter lasted long into the night.  


********************  


Simon munched on the bagel he’d rummaged from his freezer, clicking through his blog on his laptop. He’d had to put out a statement due to one tiny little comment he’d made. Really, he should have known better, but he was the God of Distractions, and the interviewer had poked him JUST the right way. Ugh. One stupid comment about the infantilization of Western civilization and suddenly he was a demon in the eyes of nerd society. Apparently, people had issues understanding that just because something was pointed out didn’t mean it was negative. He could point out lots of things: ‘Dalmatians have spots! Winter is cold!’ – that didn’t meant it was a bad thing, just something to think about.

All right, he should’ve known better.

He’d gone to his blog to explain himself more eloquently, pointing out how culture in general kept people happy so they didn’t notice the big issues. It was a common tactic. Hell, why did they think there was a thousand different types of festivals for the Greeks? What purpose did the gladiators serve? Really, it was all nothing new. Distractions were a necessary part of society. The Catholic Church did a great job of it in the Middle Ages.

After all, if anybody knew about distractions from the big issues, it would be Simon.

Most of the responses were positive. Some were trolls, trying to goad him further. Simon was willing to bet at least one of those was Aphrodite. Some were decent arguments. It had taken two whole days before comments stopped coming regularly – Typical slew of web-anonymous commenters, distracted for a moment before slogging off to the next new thing. Proof of his statement right there: stick something shiny out there and two days later everyone’s gone on to something else.

The last few posts caught his attention. One was a troll, an intelligent troll, but still a troll. The person accused him of having ‘just discovered philosophy’, et cetera, et cetera. How dull. Another victim of distractions. He idly wondered what the person would say if they ever found out that Socrates and Plato had been drinking buddies of his. He snickered to himself at the thought – and the memory of Plato getting so blasted he theorized that the reflection of the sun on the ocean could cause fire under the water. That had been a fun day.

The two posts just before the intelligent troll were from the same person. A woman, at least, it had been signed with a female name. It talked about how people needed distractions just as much as they needed information – knowing too much about the dangers of the world was just as dangerous as not knowing enough. It could cause depression and anxiety, overloading the person. Simon guessed she’d been trying to emphasize a balance, but hadn’t quite gotten there. Then again, she stated the post had been made at 1am. She also referenced the need for heroes, be they in comic books or Greek heroes – with two Greek heroes actually listed – because they needed something to believe in that was above themselves.

Simon’s heart skipped a beat when he read one tiny sentence, embedded in the middle of a paragraph and so very, very easy to miss. ‘We all need Dionysus’.

Simon almost broke his phone trying to get it out of the cradle. “Ian, you damn well better pick up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jimmy is having a mid-life crisis. And Stephen is easily bored. And Evangeline has FINALLY found her place among the guys on the set.
> 
> The blog post that I'm referring to actually exists. In fact, it's actually what sparked the idea for the entire story. The name of the author of that post will be changed in this story, though. The blog that Simon Pegg wrote was much later in time (actually, is was this year), but I'm condensing it for the sake of the storyline. It IS an AU, after all.
> 
> Ah, and James conjuring tea - originally, I had him conjuring whiskey, but I was reminded by W.D. that Peter had the ulcers throughout filming, not just at the beginning. Whiskey is not good for ulcers. So it was changed to tea. :)


	19. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Richard is awoken in the middle of the night, is accused of being a gigolo, talks about children, and says goodbye to the dragon.

Ian was old, and could answer the phone however he damn well pleased. So when Simon called him shortly after midnight, New-Zealand time, he decided to answer it the following way: “This had better be a beautiful man calling me, since it is far past my bedtime.” He hadn’t managed to fall asleep, and he knew it was Simon from the caller ID, but maybe it would make his son think twice about checking time zones before calling.

Or not.

“Ian, no time for that! Check my blog!”

Ian turned on his bedside lamp. Sleep would not be coming to him tonight. “Simon, you haven’t posted pictures of your nipples again, have you? It wasn’t funny the last time.”

“NO! I found her! She’s made a mistake!” Simon insisted.

“Who?”

“ATHENA. GET UP OFF YOUR ARSE AND CHECK MY BLOG.”

Ian slid out of his bed in a rush, barely remembering his dressing gown and slippers before he hurried to his dining table and opened his laptop. It took him a few minutes to find Simon’s blog, all while Simon rambled instructions on how to find the message. He finally got to the message and read through it, telling Simon to “Be quiet, I can’t concentrate with your blabbering,” while he did so.

Simon… was right.

It was something Athena would write… well, what a very tired Athena would write. There were a few errors, but most commenters would not go back and actually correct the errors with a second post, especially since the mistakes were tiny. The commenter’s supposed sleep-deprived brain actually switched Odysseus over Perseus (until she corrected it)… another mistake Athena might possibly make – she had always favored Odysseus more than Perseus. There was even talk of anxiety, which they all knew Athena was prone to.

The comment was signed ‘Rose Leigh Sixres’.

Rose… lee… vi… res….

Rosalie Vires.

The original name of the girl they believed to be Athena.

He unplugged his laptop, hung up the phone, and hurried out his door. He banged his fist on Martin’s trailer door until the Hobbit opened it, bleary-eyed and grumpy.

“What in all of Hades are you doing?” Martin demanded. He blinked a few times. “Ian, why are you crying?”

“Look! Look, it’s Athena.” Ian shoved the laptop at him, pointing at the screen. He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears of joy.

 

*************************

 

By two in the morning, New-Zealand time, every single God in their clique had been roused from sleep and was sitting in one of the conference rooms at Stone Street Studios. Peter had managed to set up some sort of teleconference thing with video and audio. Ian wasn’t sure how it worked, but he trusted Peter when the director said not to push any buttons.

Dozens of deities from around the world were logged into the conference. Most of them were very awake, especially Simon, who was very nearly bouncing off the walls. The Kiwi/Australian contingent, most of which were gathered around the conference table in various stages of wakefulness, sat nursing coffee cups and imagining killing anyone being cheerful – especially Simon. It wasn’t really murder if the God was reincarnated afterwards, was it?

“If the world isn’t ending, I would really, really like to go back to bed.” Mark complained.

“I second that motion,” Richard didn’t open his eyes. He thought of his nice warm bed, and the gentleman keeping it warm for him. “I’m not a Greek, I don’t need to be here.”

“Ian, if he gets to leave, I get to leave.” Benedict mumbled from his seat, head in his hand as he tried not to fall back asleep.

“They have a point,” one of the Goddesses, a harsh-looking older woman spoke up through the teleconference. Hestia. “They’re not Greeks, there’s no reason for them to be here.”

Rhea, Jeb’s mother, who had joined them in the virtual conference room, spoke up. “First of all, Zeus officially adopted Anextiomarus, so he is technically a Greek. I was there. Secondly, Bragi has been close to Athena and Apollo for centuries, he can help us identify her.”

“Nobody is leaving,” Ian insisted. “Regardless of the pantheon they were born into, we are all one the same side. And if anybody says anything about Anextiomarus again, they will be explaining themselves to me. Understood?” Silence reigned. “Good. On to the actual reason why we are up at the ungodly hour. Dionysus, you have an announcement. “

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” Simon rubbed his hands together. “Announcement, everyone! I found her!”

“Found who?” James groaned. “Who could be worth getting up at 2am for?”

“Athena!” Simon cried out with glee. Simon couldn’t have woken the actors in New Zealand faster if he’d injected them with adrenaline. Chaos erupted in the conference room. Everything from ‘how’ to ‘what happened’ to ‘what does she look like’ all the way back to ‘took you long enough'. Ian let them vent before calling them to order and allowing Simon to continue.

“She posted on my blog,” Simon explained.

“Anybody can post on your blog,” Mark pointed out. “You have an open forum.”

“Just listen,” Simon read out the exact post to them, word for word, even the corrections from the second post.

“It could be a trick, Aphrodite could have posted that, or had someone do it.” Graham said.

Peter shook his head, pretending not to notice that Fran was dropping off to sleep next to him, despite the noise and chaos. “I don’t think they could pull off Athena’s personality so fluidly. It reads like something she would write… structure and content. Okay, she sounds a little unorganized, but the posting is an early-morning one. I’m the God of Messages, I think I’d know if it didn’t have her stamp on it. Anyways, none of them have ever figured out that Athena always adored her brother Dionysus, that she’s always seen him as her counterbalance. Everyone outside our group thinks they hate each other, they certainly held loud enough debates.”

“Which she usually won,” Simon grinned. “Still fun, though.”

“Not to mention,” Benedict continued where Peter left off. “The remark about Dionysus is tiny. If this was someone that was actually trying to get your attention, it would have been more obvious. This makes it seem like something offhand, except for the fact that she not only is writing on Simon’s blog, but that she lists Dionysus as the God of Distractions, not wine. A mortal would’ve just said wine; that’s what he’s known for in all the literature. Whoever this was, they know who Dionysus actually is, through and through. Even the scholars haven’t picked up on the distraction part. This is someone poking around to see what’ll happen, leaving a breadcrumb.”

“This isn’t accidental,” Ian nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I’m the God of Messages, and I say no, it’s not. This was intentional, just stirring the waters. Even so, she’ll stay a step ahead of us. It’s in her nature.” Peter acknowledged.

“She wants to come home, but she doesn’t want to risk either being labeled crazy or getting caught by the others.” Graham sounded very sad at that. The conference went silent.

“She signed it with her original name. Well, a variation, but still. This was very reckless for someone that is being careful.” Another woman, a gorgeous blonde with a Swedish accent, explained. Themis, Goddess of Law. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Dolos, a man with graying hair and a Welsh accent, interjected. “Actually, it does to me. It’s very simple. That’s an identity that’s been burned. It’s no longer viable. She’s changed her name and probably several other things about herself, likely multiple times since she last used that name. She’s only returning to it because there’s some sort of connection to that name and the concept that she is Athena. She probably didn’t even realize why she did it, it was likely subconscious.”

“You’re sure about that?” Themis asked sarcastically.

“Are you a master spy? No? Okay, be quiet.” Dolos sounded more than a smidgen sarcastic.

Ian leaned back in his chair. “Simon, is there anything else that would identify her in the message?”

“You have to put your email in to comment. It also may tag an ISP when you comment, but I can’t be sure. All that information is secured. I can’t access it. I’m not even sure my webmaster can.”

“Understood. Themis, cover your ears and hum.” Ian ordered.

“Sir, this is-“ Themis started.

“Cover your ears and hum.” Ian repeated himself. Themis scowled and did as she was told. “All right. Anybody know of any hackers we can hire?”

 

*******************************

 

Normally it was Aidan that dropped off on set. Happily snoozing away, usually using Dean or Richard as a pillow, or i,jkn,jsometimes James, if the others weren’t available. He didn’t snore, but he would mumble in his sleep; adorable little phrases like ‘that horsie was mine,’ and ‘green is cooler than blue’.

Richard didn’t mumble in his sleep. He snored.

Lee still thought it was adorable.

“Come on, make him get up,” Aidan protested, poking at Richard, who had decided to fall asleep on his nephew in the air-conditioning tent. “He shouldn’t be using Dean as a pillow.”

Dean didn’t appear to be bothered by Richard snoring away on his shoulder. “You don’t mind it. If you can, why not him?”

“Because you don’t snog him,” Aidan mumbled. He glanced at the tent door, making sure that nobody was headed their way. Satisfied that the four of them were alone and the air-conditioning noise would keep people outside from hearing, he continued. “Lee does.”

“Yes, I do. Happily. He was up late last night, his other job called.” Lee shrugged from his seat, hunched up on the chair while trying to stay warm in the near-freezing temperatures. His costume wasn’t nearly heavy enough to keep him warm in the tent, and the plaid jacket he’d thrown over it was thin at best.

“He’s a late night Gigolo?” Dean asked. “How does he have time for that? He’s either with us, you, or shooting. I mean, he’s handsome, and all, but still, that takes time.”

“The only person he’s a Gigolo for is me,” Lee chuckled. “He does a very good job of it, too.”

Aidan cringed a bit. “Okay, I don’t EVER want to hear that again. It’s like… like knowing your PARENTS are going at it.”

Lee laughed. “Martin woke him up in the middle of the night; he had a key for emergencies. Some very important God thing. I was very glad we had underwear on.” Lee bit his lip. “Let him sleep, he looks so sweet that way.”

“He’s snoring.”

“He always does that, you should know that from camping.” Lee gave them a glare.

“I was too busy being tortured to remember that,” Aidan argued.

Dean laughed. “Tortured? It wasn’t THAT bad. And if I recall, you actually enjoyed some of it.”

“You pretended you’d been attacked by a bear! I felt guilty for two weeks before Lee told me it was a prank!” Aidan protested loudly. Richard shifted a bit in his seat before settling back on Dean’s shoulder. “And I had to deal with dirt in my shoes and the rain AND you two let me sit in the tent without clothes!”

“Richard did try to warn you,” Lee grinned. “Not my fault I had better cards. And I’m very sure you enjoyed Dean seeing you that way.”

Aidan coughed and didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Fucker. I didn’t have a crush on him back then.”

“Oh, that’s just why you freaked out when you thought a bear had attacked him. Because you didn’t have a crush on him. Or perhaps when you agreed to dance for us, you weren’t thinking that Dean would be watching.”

“Okay, separate, you two. You’ll wake Rich up if you keep fighting.” Dean chuckled. Thank God for the cold of the tent, or the thoughts of that night might have made him very uncomfortable. “What God thing was going on last night?”

Lee tucked him hands inside his jacket. Stupid Dwarves and their cold-tent. “Not sure. Richard was pretty tired when he got back. He said something about Simon being an idiot and blogs and that they’d found ‘her’. Whoever ‘her’ is.”

Aidan forgot about all his complaints. He sat straight up in the chair, attention seized. “We know who she is. Richard didn’t tell you?”

Lee shrugged. “I didn’t ask. We don’t talk about the God stuff when we’re together. He doesn’t like to.” He glanced over at Richard, making sure that his Englishman was still asleep. “He spent a lot of years alone because of that, after the rest of the British Gods vanished. I know it was hard on him, dying and then returning and watching his children not know who he was. He has a journal with a list of genealogies, I think it’s his previous families.” He looked sad. “I don’t want to bring up bad memories for him. Loneliness is one of the worst feelings a human being can deal with.”

They hadn’t thought about that. It always sounded like a fun game; to be reborn over and over again and watch as the world changed. To essentially live forever and be immortal. It would be like playing a video game, every time you screwed up you were able to play the level again, this time with a little more knowledge. It had sounded… very cool. But then, with nobody to truly connect with, it sounded very… lonely. Could they have handled it? Being with people that couldn’t truly understand you? Loving people who you couldn’t tell your secrets to? After the Catholics moved through Europe and England, destroying the Pagan traditions and killing large numbers of non-Catholics, Richard wouldn’t have been able to tell ANYONE who he was, not only for his own safety, but the safety of his family. If his children started talking about Pagan Gods, there was a good chance they would have been executed. The early Church had not been kind.

No wonder Richard had latched onto the Greeks the way he had. He was finally no longer alone. He was able to rebuild a family with them, one that he could be comfortable with.

It also explained why he’d latched onto them, too. After all, they knew about the whole thing - and who he was. He COULD latch onto them.

The most interesting thing was that Richard had taken a risk with Lee, one that had probably scared him half to death to make. After all that time, unable to talk about what he was. The other Gods had given Richard a boost of confidence, that was certain, but the leap of faith he’d had in telling the American…

It just went to show that Lee was far more important to Richard than the words ‘boyfriend’ or ‘lover’ could convey.

“You can ask us,” Dean offered. “We’re know a lot of the God stuff. Not all of it, but they always tell us if we ask them. Ian’s made a ‘no lying to the idiots’ rule. Jimmy’s phrasing, not mine. So, we just have to ask about it.”

“As far as who she is, it’s probably Athena. We’ve been looking for her for a while.” Aidan explained. “It’s completely a Greek thing. You may want to talk with him about it. If we hadn’t been looking for her, he would’ve never found out about the Greeks, and they wouldn’t have found out about him. I don’t think it would be a bad memory for him.”

“It’s not,” Richard mumbled. When had he stopped snoring? They hadn’t noticed. “And it was about Athena. Simon has apparently made contact. By accident.” He pulled his head off Dean’s shoulder. “How long do we have?”

“I reckon another five minutes,” Aidan shrugged. “You’re sleeping on something that belongs to me.” He pouted.

“Fine. Dean, switch with Lee.” Richard ordered tiredly. Lee smirked and changed places, letting Dean settle next to Aidan. The Irishman wasted no time in placing his head on Dean’s shoulder, cuddling close in the cold air. Lee chuckled as Richard laid his head on Lee’s shoulder, obviously happy to have a taller person to sleep on. It was only a few seconds before Richard was snoring again. Lee wasn’t even sure Richard had actually woken up.

Lee ran his fingertips over Richard’s strong jawbone. His little Fire God looked so sweet when he was asleep. How the hell had he ever lived in a bland world without Gods or Richard?

 

************************

 

“Fili, you are a warrior. You have been trained for this very moment. There is nothing you cannot accomplish.” The tone Thorin used was… purely majestic. He sounded so confident in his precious nephew.

“I really don’t think I am as capable as you believe, Uncle. This foe is far more trained than I. I fear he will defeat me in combat.” Fili bit his lip slightly. Truly, he wasn’t sure he could do what Thorin wanted him to. “It is a very risky endeavor.”

“Indeed,” Fili’s opponent agreed. “A difficult task; and your pride is at stake as a member of the line of Durin.”

Thorin growled at the opponent. “Do not listen to that piece of filth. You are my heir. You will bring honor to our family. There is no other option.”

Kili, off to the side, scowled at all of them. “For the love of Zeus... It’s just table tennis!”

“Says the bloke who threw a paddle at Martin,” Benedict chuckled.

“Really? Kili, you acted dishonorably during a battle. You should follow your brother as an example of how a true warrior acts.” Richard glared at Aidan. Lee, beside Richard, tried and failed to look as serious as the Dwarven King. Aidan snorted and crossed his arms.

“So,” Benedict continued in his ‘Smaug’ voice. “Let us see if the champion of the Greek Gods can defeat me.”

“Hero, actually.” Dean corrected.

Benedict switched from Smaug to Oxford professor. “Same thing, different words. I love synonyms. They make everything so very… dynamic. I will defeat, beat, overcome, trounce, slaughter, conquer, crush you.” Benedict grinned.

“Kick his ass in, Fili.” Richard instructed. Dean nodded, then took his place at the end of the table.

“You really don’t like me,” Benedict scowled at Richard. Richard raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s in my nature, Norse.” Richard countered.

“Boys, stop it before I have to separate you.” Ian warned. “I will not tolerate you children fighting. Bragi, don’t make me tell your father.”

Benedict paled a bit and took his place at the opposite end of the table. As the Gods in the cast watched, Dean and Benedict entered into their competition of strength, speed, cunning, and strategy.

“Dean, you win, I buy you pizza for a week!” Martin cheered at him. “I want to see Benedict go down!”

“Pizza… may not be the best thing to bribe him with.” James looked down at the floor.

“Oh, right.” Martin looked a little abashed. “Forgot. Sorry.” He jumped up and shouted. “Fish and chips! A week’s worth of fish and chips!”

That was apparently a very good bribe, and Dean quickly took the lead. Benedict wasn’t happy about that, and Bragi knew how to intimidate. “This is only a temporary situation, mortal. You cannot stand up to my strength! My teeth are swords! My claws are spears!”

“The line of Durin will prevail!” Dean declared.

“The line of Durin will be revealed to be a line of weakness,” Benedict argued, grinning. “It cannot hold up against the Great Calamity Smaug!”

“No dragon can stand up to the might of Fili, Prince of Erebor!”

Aidan ducked his head. He loved his Dean, he really did, but damn if the Kiwi wasn’t embarrassing sometimes. Granted, Dean probably thought that way about him sometimes. Especially when he wanted to go rambling.

The battle raged over the green table, Dragon and Dwarf doing their best to defeat the other. In the end, Benedict won. Superior experience, according to the Norse God. Richard was disappointed; the line of Durin was not as strong as he would’ve liked it to be. Still, he wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders and told him it was all right, there would be other ways to defeat the interloper Benedict.

“It’s all right lad. There’s plenty of things you can do that he can’t.” James tried to cheer Dean up after the loss. “Next time, challenge him to a swimming contest.”

“You can’t swim?” Dean asked Benedict, incredulous.

“I can swim,” Benedict argued, looking insulted. “The Norse can swim like the Greeks can build.”

“Oh, we Greeks are known for building,” Martin slapped Benedict on the back. “But not all of us are good at it.” He looked at Dean. “He can tread water and doggie-paddle a few laps, but that’s it.”

“Swimming contest tomorrow,” Dean pointed at Benedict.

“No can do, I fly out tomorrow.” Benedict didn’t look too disappointed about that. “Looks like the Norse will maintain their victory until later.” Martin shoved at him, laughing.

As the Gods filed out of the game room, Ian chatting with Graham and Mark quietly, Benedict decided that dinner was at Dean’s place. By the time they reached Dean’s trailer, the pack of Gods had diminished to Martin, Benedict, Richard, Lee, and the Dwarven princes. Martin called for a delivery from his favourite Indian restaurant, since apparently the Greek champion loosing at table tennis meant something in the world of Gods. They explained it as a form of Olympics, that sporting events were viewed by the Gods as a way to determine who won a battle without having any casualties. It actually made sense, especially in the world of football. The Greeks, therefore, had lost, and the Norse had won. Nowadays, that apparently meant that the Greeks would have to pay for meals and hotels whenever they got together.

Dean apologized repeatedly for loosing as their champion, but Martin brushed him off, telling him not to worry.

Benedict agreed. “It’s just old traditions, watered down. We all know the Greeks are top, as far as power goes. We know better than to piss the Greeks off. It’s just a few meals, that’s it.”

Lee took his usual place at the dining table next to Richard. “Speaking of you Gods, Richard said something about Athena?”

“No, I didn’t.” Richard looked confused.

Lee gave him a smile and wrapped his arm around Richard’s. ”Yes, you did. You weren’t fully awake, but you did. Did you know you sleep-talk?” He kissed Richard on the cheek. Richard looked a little mortified, he had been trying to keep their relationship quiet. Lee didn’t seem to have the same issue.

“I do not sleep-talk,” Richard said quietly.

“Really? Because both Dean and Aidan heard you.”

Martin made a choking noise and Benedict snickered. “Lee, you’re worse than Aidan…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aidan sounded indignant.

“No, Aidan doesn’t do it on purpose. I most certainly am doing it on purpose.” Lee grinned. “So, either tell me about Athena or I give Martin more ammunition.”

Martin took pity on his little brother. “Simon made contact with her. Right now he’s tracking down her email. We’re hoping to have her home within a week.” He looked ecstatic about that. “You’ll finally get to meet our sister!”

Aidan and Dean exchanged glances. Athena. The endgame. What would the Gods expect of them, when Athena was finally on the set? Ian had said they didn’t mind the relationship the two were in, but would that change when his precious daughter was here? Dean knew Ian favored Aidan for Athena. Would he try to break them up? Would they have any choice? The Gods could be very… persuasive.

Dean didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about losing his ray of Irish sunshine. He didn’t realize that his hand had tightened around Aidan’s until he felt Aidan squeeze it back. Apparently, he was thinking the same thing.

Whatever Martin was thinking, he didn’t notice the exchange. He continued on, oblivious to the boys’ worries. “You should probably get her a gift, Richard. You know, as a ‘Hi, I’m your new brother’ type of thing. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Don’t do wine, she actually rarely drinks.”

Lee looked surprised about that. “Dionysus is your brother and she doesn’t drink?”

“They’re COUNTERPOINTS,” Martin sighed. “Opposites. He’s the id, she the super-ego. They’re both very important, but they’re very different.

“The what and the what?” Aidan looked confused.

“You really need to read more,” Benedict muttered and his put his feet up on Dean’s coffee table. “Point is, you really should give her a gift, Richard. Maybe something from both of you.”

“That isn’t a good idea,” Richard argued. “We’re trying to play this low-key.”

Benedict chuckled. “Right… because you two don’t scan every room you go into for each other, or sit next to each other when you think no-one's paying attention, or anything else. I’m not stupid. Fine. Get her something from just you. She loves books, or you can take her out to dinner, or something.”

“I’ll think about it,” Richard muttered. He didn’t actually KNOW her, so how was he supposed to know what to get her?

The food finally arrived, packaged up nice and neat for them. Martin paid, and everyone dug in. Dean claimed that this food wasn’t nearly as spicy as the Cajun food, but most of them had to take his word for it: They’d never had Cajun. Lee, the only one who had eaten Cajun, refused to comment.

 

********************

 

That night, after Martin and Benedict had been shooed away and the boys tucked in bed for the night (well, not really tucked in, but Richard wasn’t going to think about the other activities they could be doing), Richard lay in his bed, arm wrapped around Lee’s waist as the American laid his head on Richard’s shoulder. Despite the cold outside, the bed was cozy and warm, if not a bit disheveled from the fact that neither man made the bed if he didn’t have to. Richard had never found anything closer to paradise than just resting with the one he loved.

“Rich?”

“Thought you were asleep,” Richard mumbled, tracing his fingertips along Lee’s waist.

“No. Not yet. Just thinking.”

“About?”

Lee shifted a bit in the bed, pressing closer to Richard’s warmth. “You treat the boys like they’re your kids. I was just thinking… do you want kids?”

“Lee, that really isn’t a possibility, now is it?” Richard frowned.

“Right, I forgot, you hate technology, so you wouldn’t know. There’s other ways of having kids biologically. Hell, even adoption.” Lee explained. “I think you’d be good with kids.”

Richard pulled Lee even closer to him. “I’ve had enough practice at it. Lee, it’s not an easy thing for me to go through.”

“You’re with me, it’s not going to be easy anyway. When I die, you’ll keep going, in one way or another.”

“If I die first, I swear I will find you.” Richard muttered.

“I know you will,” Lee grinned. “You’re too stubborn to give up.”

“Damn straight, as you Americans say.”

“Ugh, don’t start talking American. It doesn’t suit you.” Lee teased. “Not to mention that you’re far from straight. Back to topic, do you want kids?”

“Aidan and Dean are more than enough, thank you.”

“They’ll grow up eventually,” Lee toyed with Richard’s hands, inspecting the lines and folds. Richard had such interesting hands. Interesting and talented.

“Doubt it,” Richard grinned back, even though Lee wasn't looking. “Have you seen some of the things they do?”

“They’re adults.”

“Only by age, not maturity.” Richard countered. Lee had to acquiesce to that. He could do some silly things, but those two really took the cake.

“So… we’re keeping them?” Lee asked. “Okay, fine. But what about another little one? Or two? Or three? You know it’s safe now, for them to know that you’re a God. You wouldn’t lose touch with them like you did before. We… we could start a new chapter in your book – a new genealogy… our family.”

Richard thought about that. That would be… wonderful. It would be difficult, no doubt. Their work wasn’t exactly conductive to the life of a small child, and he remembered what it was like to be woken in the middle of the night by a screaming infant with colic. Not to mention the fussy parts in childhood, and the stubbornness in the teenage years. But to watch them take their first steps, say first words, discover all sorts of different things as they got older, and eventually fall in love and start families of their own… there was nothing like it in the world. “It’s something to think about.” He agreed.

Lee moved until he could press a kiss to Richard’s chest. “Start thinking.”

 

**********

 

Benedict’s cracker hat was sideways. The stupid thing just wouldn’t stay on his head properly. Maybe it was because his hair was curly. Or because his head was big. Or it could have been because Martin kept helping him ‘straighten’ it.

He really wasn’t sure which one was the cause.

It really didn’t matter, anyway.

There was far too many of them to hold Benedict’s farewell party in any of the trailers, and it was too cold outside to hold it at the picnic tables. Instead, they held it on-set, in the soon-to-be dismantled Smaug’s treasure-hoard. Jeb had dragged his barbecue in, and Graham had decided that this week’s lesson for Aidan and Dean would be to help Jeb. Not only was it a challenge to not get distracted by Jeb’s incessant talking, but they had to keep from burning themselves or the food. Oddly enough, Aidan was actually having more trouble with that than Dean.

Between the barbecue, the crackers, James ‘finding’ cans of silly string (Ian was fairly certain he’d conjured them) for everyone to play with, the tossing of random coins at each other whenever someone was dumb enough to turn their back, and the occasional act of stupidity (such as Stephen chasing William around the set with a rubber tarantula until William realized it wasn’t real) the actors were truly closer to holding a children’s birthday party than a mature send-off for a fully grown man.

None of them would have had it any other way.

“Enguarde!” Dean declared, holding the wooden sword in a defensive pose, glaring at Adam.

“Uhm… I forget, what’s the response to that?” Adam asked.

“Adam, we love you, bloke, but you will never be a warrior.” Aidan laughed from the barbeque.

Graham stepped in, wrapping an arm around poor Adam’s neck. “Nah. He’s our little woolen-mitten nerd. Stop torturing him and get back to grilling.”

“You be nice to our little Adam!” Stephen scowled, pulling Adam away from Graham. “Jeb, Graham is being mean to Adam!”

“Don’t make me come over there!” Jeb waved a random skewer at them. “You leave my baby brother alone, you hear?”

Adam pretended to sulk. “Mark, Jeb’s calling me a baby.”

“Well, that’s what you are! Silly little brother, getting into mischief! You stay away from those princes, you hear me? They’re nothing but trouble!” Mark laughed.

Aidan raised his hand “I agree with that!”

“What, the Dragon isn’t trouble?” Benedict laughed. “If you want to keep him away from anyone, you should keep him away from me!” Benedict pounced on Adam’s back, and the Dwarf let out a shout before falling into the piles of coins, unable to stay up. When Adam picked himself back up, Benedict pulled a crown from the pile and placed it on Adam’s head to replace the cracker hat that had been torn in the fall. “King Adam!” The rest of the actors gave a chorus of 'King Adam!'

They all gave him silly bows and Stephen found a necklace and placed it around Adam’s neck, bowing after he completed his task.

“Ah, the king needs a kiss from the only eligible maiden!” Evangeline declared. “Come here, you cutie.”

“Ack! Hey, I’m married!” Adam squawked, laughing. He ran (as best he could on the piles of coins) and pretended to hide behind Mark. “Brother, save me!”

“So,” Benedict asked Peter as they watched Dean returned to help grill and Adam pretended to run away from Evangeline. “Which part of the hoard do I get to keep?”

“Good question! Everyone, gather ‘round!” Peter called out. “We need to decide what Smaug gets to take home!”

“Who says he gets to take home anything? We haven’t!” Jeb called out from his spot at the grill. He handed two chicken breasts over to Dean and told him to put the food on the table.

“Except for all the coins you’ve stolen,” Dean smirked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Shoo.” Jeb waved him off. Dean laughed and took the food to the table.

“Hm, that’s a good question, what to give young Benedict.” Ken agreed. “Perhaps we should hold a contest. A hunt, if it were. We dig through what’s here and each find one item. Then we vote on who picked the best item. Benedict gets the item, the winner gets… well, bragging rights.”

“Oh my God… Ken’s suggesting something FUN?” Stephen put a hand over his heart.

“We all need a little nonsense, now and then.” Ken smirked.

“All right! I’ve got a timer on this watch! I’ll give everyone… three minutes!” Fran called out. She held up her arm. “Ready… go!” She dropped her arm, grinning.

Ian took over the barbeque from Jeb, claiming back issues that made him unable to dig through the treasure. The din of coins being shoved aside by the rest of the cast echoed off the walls of the soundstage, far louder than anyone could have imagined. Adam grabbed the largest ‘golden’ shield he could lift, dragging it over to Fran. Jeb found a gorgeous necklace made of ‘rubies’, and Graham and Mark both chose goblets of different makes. Peter found a sword with a ‘bejeweled’ hilt, and Ken picked out some sort of golden club that would actually have made a nice lamp base… which is what it probably was originally. Martin found a faux book, and Aidan and Dean found a matching pair of statues. Peter H. pulled out some sort of arm bracer from the wreckage of the coins, William found some sort of ornate box, Stephen found a tiny golden bird that fit in his palm, and Richard located… an axe.

Fran called time just as Martin presented his item, and the voting commenced. The Dwarves, Ian, and Benedict took part in the process, and Fran showcased each item like she was a game show host. It wound up being a three-way tie between the Adam’s shield, Stephen’s bird, and Mark’s goblet.

“Looks like Smaug will be taking three items instead of one,” Ian laughed. “Let the dragon have his treasure.”

Benedict collected the items, cheerfully inspecting each. “Thank you, everyone.” He looked genuinely happy. “I want to stay, I really do. The only reason I’m going back to England is for filming. I will, however, be meeting everyone in San Diego for the convention! We can all go to the beach!”

“And you can get a proper suntan!” Peter joked.

 

************

 

The first lunch without Benedict was…downright dull. Without the dragon there to recite random bits of famous works, it seemed a little too quiet. Not that they weren’t glad that they didn’t have to listen to another quotation from the Canterbury Tales. Still, it had been fun to watch him as he played out the stories.

Aidan and Dean were playing with Dean’s miniature chess set from his party cracker. Silicone Dwarven hands made it hard to play with the tiny pieces, and they were having more fun with trying to make their moves than actually challenging one another.

Graham removed the script from their Dwarven King's hands and sat on it. “Richard, this is lunch. No working. Eat your food.”

“I’m just going over the changes,” Richard argued.

“You can do that later. This is social time.” James agreed with Graham. “See, even Carson over there is being social!” He pointed at the security guard, in the corner with another guard, a make-up artist, and a set assistant.

Richard glanced in the direction. “I’m glad he’s making friends, finally. Looks like he’s planning to stay. He’s too clever to be a bobby. And he’s really a gentle soul.”

“You know someone’s made an impression when the person they arrested speaks high of them,” Martin teased.

“Peter will find the right job for him. He’s good at that.” Graham grinned.

“When was Richard arrested?” Stephen asked.

Ooops. Martin floundered for a bit before Richard spoke. “Remember that accident that put Ian in hospital? I beat the bloke who had been driving the other car, he had a gun.”

“Damn! Richard, you’re hero material!” Stephen looked impressed.

If only he knew… Martin chuckled. “Don’t tell him that, it’ll go to his head.”

Jeb’s mobile rang, and the Kiwi answered it. He spoke low on the phone for a few minutes before hanging up. “That was odd.”

“What is it?” Adam asked.

“Mum’s coming to the set again. She said it was an emergency. I hope Dad’s okay…” Jeb stared at his mobile.

Moments later, the Greeks’ phones all went off, a simple text message appearing. ‘Simon’s on his way, and he has a companion.’


	20. Letters to Athena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which Hades plays 'run away from the Orc', Lee destroys a dressing gown and is harassed by random extras, Dean and Aidan are called perverts, Peter decides to try to set Richard on fire, and Aidan realizes he doesn't like dressing in suits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, very sorry this chapter took so long. Ironically, it wasn't that writing was difficult, it was that I actually wrote too much. Hades wound up stealing the chapter and running away with it. Repeatedly. This chapter went through a number of edits to lessen the amount of time the little guy spent in it.
> 
> The scene with Richard and Lee also went through a number of edits, the first one to 'spice it up' (my editor's words, not mine), then another to tone it back down, as it was a little TOO spicy.
> 
> Also, I went back and fixed some formatting errors. Sorry about that.
> 
> Again, I do apologise that took so long to get this out.

It was well into the night when Simon arrived. The Gods were assembled in the car-park, anxiously waiting, from Anextiomarus to Rhea. Thankfully, the weather was fair, if not cold. When the towncar pulled up, Peter opened the door for them. Simon struggled to get out of the car, the bundle in his arms making it far more difficult than it should have been. Rhea took the bundle: child, blanket, jacket, and all from Simon so he could get out. The bundle shifted, obviously unhappy at being disturbed.

“He fell asleep on the plane, wouldn’t wake up if the place was on fire.” Simon looked at the boy, all wrapped up in the blanket with only his red sneakers poking out.

“His parents?” Ian asked, checking on the boy being rocked in the Goddess’s arms. Rhea hummed a tuneless song as she rocked the child.

“Just his father. He’s asleep in the car. Our little God apparently is a bundle of energy, keeps his father on his toes.” Simon chuckled. “If someone would like to wake him up?”

Fran took the lead on that, gently shaking the boy’s father awake. When he emerged from the car, he was very surprised to see his son being rocked by a stranger, let alone being fussed over by Sir Ian McKellen.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll take him,” the boy’s father reached for his child, but Rhea moved out of his way.

“It’s no trouble, Mr. Malcolm. Isaac is in good hands. I’m sorry you wife couldn’t come.” Ian smiled at him.

Mr. Malcolm looked bothered by that statement. “She… she isn’t in the picture anymore. She couldn’t handle Isaac’s… eccentricities. She left me, just up and gone one day. Isaac’s a difficult child, are you sure you want him in your movie?”

“We wouldn’t have asked about him if we didn’t. His eccentricities make him perfect. It’s not a large role.” Peter grinned.

The God of Messages failed at easing Mr. Malcolm's worries. “He… he says he sees ghosts. And he likes to dig. One time, when he was playing, I heard him call himself…” He glanced around, then continued in a loud whisper. “HADES. He runs away, too, hiding from people for hours. This wasn’t a good idea, I don’t think he’s stable enough to act.”

Liz took one of Mr. Malcolm’s arms. “It’s fine. Every parent gets nervous when their child goes into acting.”

Peter continued. “Trust me, this is right where he needs to be. If our talent scout picked up on his abilities, he’s perfect.”

“Come along, let’s get you to bed, you look like you could use some rest.” Liz maneuvered him in the direction of the trailers.

Rhea turned to follow, but the motion jostled little Hades into semi-wakefulness. “Mummy?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s Mummy.” Rhea whispered quietly, rocking him again. “Go back to sleep, Hades. Sleep, sweet one.”

Hades yawned and rested his head back on Rhea’s shoulder. “Okay, Mummy.”

Rhea gave Ian a self-indulgent grin and headed off in the direction Liz had taken Hades’s father. After reaching a trailer, Liz unlocked the door for Mr. Malcolm, and Rhea followed them in. The rest of the Gods watched as the lights were turned on throughout the trailer, then off again just before the two women left the trailer.

“They’re set up. Mr. Malcolm is nervous, but I think he’ll be fine. Doing all this as a single parent is rough, especially with the way Isaac’s mother left. It’s stress. We just need to make sure he’s comfortable.” Liz explained.

Simon nodded. “He worried the entire flight. We’ll going to have a hell of a time getting Hades into the business with him as his legal guardian.”

Rhea gave them a smile. “I can handle that, I am Hades’ mother, after all. I refuse to give up on my child so easily.”

The group of Gods headed towards the empty canteen - it was closer than the conference rooms. Once inside, Simon pulled a packet out of his jacket. The envelope was worn, Simon had obviously hand-carried it through customs. He tossed the packet onto a table as they took their seats. “This is everything our hacker got on Miss Rose Leigh Sixres. Name doesn’t exist. Anywhere.”

“We figured that,” Fran sighed. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

“My left foot hurts,” Simon cocked his head to the side.

That earned Simon blank stares from the rest of the Gods. “What?” 

“You said to tell you something you didn’t know,” Simon shrugged. Fran managed to refrain from banging her head on the table. Barely. “Right, right, on to actual work. The email she used was also false: Write32433s_NightVision. Weird.” He pulled one slip of paper out of the envelope, a copy of the message with the email address and ISP. “We couldn’t pull any data about the computer she used – she had the sucker firewalled and bounced through proxy-servers. Clever.” Peter made a face and slip the paper over so he could read it better, while Simon pulled out some more items, photos, this time. “You were checking in the wrong place for photos from Uni. I found out that Rosalie Vires has some military training, particularly one of their collegiate programs. High scores in multiple fields, but was not permitted to join America’s armed forces due to her anxiety disorder. The military program took photos of all their training platoons, group shots. I’ve got a guy going through them.”

Ian picked up a photo. Over two hundred persons stood at attention, facing the camera. The photo’s quality was horrendous, it had to be taken with a home camera. None of the faces were actually visible. “It’s going to take time.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Simon agreed. “We also found a news article on her being a local valedictorian… that’s like head girl, I think.” He shrugged. “You’ll all be happy to know that she excelled not just at math and science… but also the arts. She was in a Greek History club AND the Drama Club.”

“She remembered…” James whispered. “She knew.”

“Probably. My hacker found something about a police file, but the record had been sealed so he couldn’t find anything else on it. Their protection was better than his ability. Sorry.” Simon explained

“It’s a riddle,” Peter muttered, staring at the message he’d absconded with.

“Wow, talk about quotes,” Graham laughed.

“No, no, LOOK at it. The Email address, it’s a riddle.” Peter shoved the paper in front of Graham. “NightVision… that could be… goggles?” He went back to looking at the paper, then started scribbling.

“Owl,” Mark looked at the paper. “It’s an owl. She loved those.”

“Then what are the numbers?” Ian asked.“A cipher? And what about the word 'Write'?”

“No… damn, that’s clever.” Peter mumbled. “She knows who’s on what side… she knows that Aphrodite doesn’t have any literacy Gods on her side… and she used it to her advantage. Aphrodite would assume it’s a cipher, a code of some sort. It isn’t. It’s literal. You have to WRITE it out…”

“You lost me,” Richard scowled.

“Penstrokes. Each number is a number of penstrokes in a letter. A-T-H-E-N-A. Athenas_Owl.” Peter grinned.

“How the HELL did you get that?” Simon demanded. “That’s so obscure that there’s no possible way you could have figured that out!”

Ian chuckled. “He is the God of Messages. She was sending a message. He cheated.”

 

**********************

 

Dean slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Aidan, who was still snoozing away. That man could sleep until noon if you let him. Wait, it was noon. Never mind. He took his pillow and inserted it into Aidan’s arms, giving his Irishman something to cuddle while he slept. Aidan happily accepted the pillow, wrapping his arm around it and mumbling ‘mine’.

The Kiwi headed into the kitchenette, making himself a breakfast of scrambled eggs with mushrooms and tomatoes, toast, and tea. He couldn’t help but be a little grateful for Graham’s cooking lessons. Had it really been just a few months ago that he would’ve burnt the toast, cut himself while chopping the mushrooms, and had no idea that tomatoes actually could be put into other foods? Oh, how his world had been changed by this movie.

After breakfast, Dean pulled out his sketchbook, letting his mind relax and draw whatever it wanted to. He was just starting the shading on a fairly decent rendition of his teakettle when his mobile rang, cheerily playing The Almighty Johnson’s theme song. He scowled at the device on the coffee table; Mark had apparently changed his ringtone again. He was going to have to password the thing if the God of Laughter kept doing that.

“Hello, you’ve reached a Dwarf.”

“Please tell me this is Dean,” Richard’s voice came over the tiny speaker.

“Of course it’s me,” Dean frowned. “Richard, you take the phone, look at the contacts, and press ‘Dean’. That’s all you have to do. I programmed the number for you.”

Richard sounded annoyed. “You tell this blasted thing that. It called William and Ken before it wanted to call you.”

Dean suppressed a laugh. Richard was majestic, truly an inspiration. He excelled at so very many things and was an incredible story-teller to boot. But he still hadn’t figured out his mobile, let alone anything more complicated than a toaster. Dean was fairly certain the man wouldn’t even watch his tele if Lee didn’t turn it on. “What do you need?”

“Stop laughing, technology hates me.” Richard said. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Anything,” Dean set his sketchbook aside.

“Lee went over to the Dale set, probably to practise. He’s likely forgotten his wrist brace again. Can you take it to him? He leaves it in his sock drawer.”

“Richard, I don’t have a key to his trailer.”

“You have one to mine. I keep a spare key to his inside my copy of Robin Hood.” The Englishman explained. “I have to go back now.”

“All right, got it.” Dean nodded, even though Richard couldn't see him. “Talk to you later.” He ended the call. After changing clothes (he was not going outside in his pyjamas), finding his shoes, leaving a note for Aidan, and putting on his jacket, he trotted over to Richard’s place. Locating the key was easy, and though Dean had to dig around Lee’s sock drawer for the brace, it wasn’t long before he was heading to the decrepit city of Dale.

The soundstage was a bustle of activity as the set engineers and decorators were finishing up on last-minute touches. Spray paint cans filled an entire trash bin, and a bucket of wall plaster sat off to the side. Ladders were strewn about. He finally located Lee just outside what they were calling the town hall, wearing pieces of his Elvish armor and a long dressing gown. He was focusing on his sword and the movements he needed to make – spinning and lunging at invisible enemies.

“What are you doing?” Dean laughed.

Lee didn’t miss a beat. “Rehearsing.”

“In your dressing gown?”

“I keep hitting things with my sword… including my own costume. I’m working on… well… not hitting things. They won’t let me rehearse with most of the costume, afraid I'll tear it, so I found a substitute.” Lee explained.

Dean snickered and handed over the brace. “Richard wanted me to bring you this.”

The American set his sword on a nearby ruin, rubbing his wrist. “Thanks. He worries too much, but damn if I don’t appreciate it.” He slid the brace on, wiggling his fingers to make sure it wouldn’t interfere with his dexterity. “Where’s your other half?”

“Asleep,” Dean shrugged. “We had a… late night.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Stuff it,” Dean blushed. He turned to leave, no sense in sticking around when Lee was going to tease him, when a child jumped from one of the nearby boulders, landing in the soft sand that littered the set. Dark hair, dark T-shirt, khaki pants, and exuberantly shouting at the top of his lungs. That was odd, to say the least. He wasn’t one of the other actors’ children. Dean pointed at the jubilant boy, turning back to Lee. “Miniature Orc? Or does he belong to you and Richard?”

“Nope, not ours.” Lee shrugged, taking up his sword again. “Hades, according to Ian. Kid’s been at it over an hour. He’s playing a refugee child; Fran thought he should get comfortable on the set.”

That… made sense. To a point. Apparently, Fran thought that turning the set into a playpark would be a good idea. Trouble was, Fran was nowhere to be seen. There was a man standing off to the side, watching the child intently. A parent, maybe?

Apparently, the child was a sharp little thing, because he quickly realized that Dean was a new person on the set, despite the bustle of people around them. He bounded up to Dean, looking curious. “Hello. Who’re you?”

“I’m Dean.” Dean knelt down to the child’s height. “Nice to meet you.” He shook the child’s hand, trying to look friendly.

“Isaac,” the boy said. “Are you family?”

“Uhm,” Dean looked confused for a moment.

“Anextiomarus adopted him,” Lee explained, working through his swordfighting set again. Slice, duck, step, lunge, swirl, slice…

“No, he didn’t.” Dean argued.

“Trust me, he did.” Lee laughed. He stepped and swirled again, got his wooden sword stuck in his dressing gown, and nearly knocked himself over. So much for the grace of Elves.

“Oh. So you are family! Nexti…. Uhm… Anexto… You know his name. He’s my new nephew.” Isaac grinned. He gave Dean a quick hug, then tilted his head sideways. “I like your shirt. It looks like rubies before they’re polished. Can I have it?”

Dean glanced down at his shirt, the red plaid one that had saved his life and had never been returned to Aidan. Eventually, Aidan had caved and bought a new one. “This is my lucky shirt, I’m going to keep it. It’s very important to me.”

“Oh,” Isaac looked sad, putting on those puppy eyes that Aidan perfected. Damn. Dean was a sucker for puppy eyes.

“Uh… tell you what, you’re going to be running away from Orcs tomorrow, right? Why don’t I help you practise?” Dean suggested. It would be a bit before Aidan woke up, he could afford ten minutes, couldn’t he?

That cheered the child up almost instantly. “Okay!” Isaac gave a peal of laughter and dashed away, down the main walkway and around a corner. Dean followed, making growling noises and staggering here and there to slow himself down. The boy dashed away from him, around buildings and over debris and all around. Dean caught him a few times, picking him up and tossing him in the air whenever he did before letting the child loose again.

The game was brought to a halt by a loud cough from off the set. Aidan stood there, next to Fran, arms crossed and smirking. “Dean, I know you like kids and all, but the note you left said you’d be dropping off Lee’s brace, not spending the day playing tag.”

Oops. Oh, he was going to have to make it up to Aidan, if looks were anything to go by. “What time is it?”

“Half past two.”

Oh, yes, he was going to have to make this up. “Sorry, I was helping him with his role, and I got distracted.” Dean watched as Fran spoke quietly with the childish God. “He reminds me a lot of myself as a kid, I remember some actors that helped me out on the set when I first started. It’s scary, when you’re a kid and you go into acting.”

Aidan glanced at the child and broke out into one of winning smiles. “I suppose you’re right. Come on, let’s get some lunch. I’m starving.”

 

**********************

 

“So, Elf-King, what do you have to say about the city of Dale?” Luke asked, leaning on a piece of wall.

“Well, I think it could use a good sports bar. Possibly over there,” Lee pointed off in a random direction. “Then a nice garden over here would be good, for aesthetics.” He motioned around him. “And street lights. It needs street lights to cheer it up at dusk. Is that camera on?” He pointed at one of the behind-the-scenes videographers. The man grinned and didn’t answer. “Thought so.”

“Could be worse,” Luke shrugged.

“I think it’s about to be…” Lee frowned, looking at a mass of people heading towards them.

As the extras appeared in a long line, false wounds applied and clothes torn, the first two spotted the Elvish King and gave each other conspiratory looks. As they passed Lee, the woman exclaimed, loudly enough for everyone around them to hear, “Lovely hair. Isn’t that Elvish King just so handsome with his long, blonde hair?”

The man of the pair nodded. “Such shiny armor, too. You’d think that he was going out to spend a night on the town, in all that shiny stuff.” They laughed and continued on their way, following the poor set assistant who was guiding them to their places.

Unfortunately for Lee, the rest of the extras followed suit, teasing Lee mercilessly as they passed.

“Your hair is love-ly!”

“Just so pretty!”

“Damn Elves and their shiny armor!”

“I’d kill for that hair.”

“Beautiful Fairy King!”

“Love the outfit!”

He laughed at their jests, each one talking about how ‘pretty’ he was, until he couldn’t breathe anymore. By the time the line finished, he couldn’t stand up straight. “I’m going to have to get them back.” Lee managed to say once it was all over.

“Glad to know the extras are comfortable. Still, that was rude of them.” Luke glanced back at the line.

Lee laughed even harder. “They’re allowed. My parents were the ones who started it.”

Luke turned to look at the couple, then back at Lee. “Those two were your parents?”

“Yeah… they came to visit, Peter wanted to use them in a scene.”

“You don’t get your acting talent from them, do you?”

“No,” Lee admitted. “I’m a fluke. Right now I’m acting like I don’t know them.”

“Good luck with that, your mother’s waving at you.” Luke laughed.

“I know…”

 

******************************************

 

Aidan froze. He couldn’t remember. Blast it all, he couldn’t remember! Here he was, on his knees, holding hands, and he couldn’t remember. “I hate Dwarvish! And it’s even harder when she’s making faces at me!”

Evangeline broke into laughter. “You should try Elvish when Lee is around.”

“Gimme my rock back, you Elvish wench.” Aidan tried to snatch the Dwarvish stone from Evangeline, but she held it above her head. “Oh, that is not fair. Just because I’m a Dwarf, you’re gonna do that? Fili! Fili, come help me with the Elf!” He pretended to reach for the stone, staying on his knees and bemoaning the height of Elves.

Andy couldn’t stop laughing. “I think we all need a break, and Aidan needs to study his Dwarvish. How ‘bout it?” Cheers came from the cast and crew. Aidan was very happy to get off his knees, they were beginning to hurt.

Dean wandered up to them, leaving the boat he’d been ‘pushing’ into the water, wrapping one arm around Aidan’s shoulders and the other around Evangeline’s. “So, gorgeous girl, what’s new?”

“I have a suitor that can’t remember how to hit on me and is going to die anyway,” she teased.

“Hey, now, that’s not fair!” Aidan squawked. “Dwarvish is hard!”

“I’d rather he didn’t remember how to hit on you, that way I get to keep him all to myself.” Dean grinned. “My fuzzy, cuddly little Kili.”

“As long as the fangirls don’t rip him to shreds,” Evangeline shrugged. “You should hear some of the things they did to Orlando. Poor guy.”

“The fucker probably enjoyed it!” Aidan laughed.

“So, we still on for tonight?” Dean asked. “Stephen wants to play FIFA, but I’m thinking something a little more party-game would be fun. Any ideas?”

“One of those fighting games!” Evangeline cheered. “I love those!”

“They’re button-mashers!” Aidan protested.

“Why do you think I like those? You think I actually KNOW how to play those video games?”

“She’s got a point,” Dean laughed. “Come on, let’s get a snack, I’m famished.”

James had beaten them to the food table, chatting amicably with one of the lighting people. That man could talk to anyone. Aidan picked out two crème pastries, Dean took a cup of nuts, and Evangeline choose a very healthy bunch of grapes. They wandered the set, enjoying each other’s company. They passed Carson, who was apparently on ‘watch the mortals’ duty again. The security guard was sitting in a fold out chair, watching the set assistant Vi do something with a length of thread and a piece of cloth. He seemed to be mesmerized by the motions of her hands.

“Hey, Carson, what’cha doin’?” Aidan asked, leaning over the back of the chair to see what the former police officer was looking it. It appeared to be a pair of red wings on black cloth. Odd.

Carson nearly jumped out of his chair. “Nothing, I just… stopped to talk to Vi and… uhm… so… hello.”

Dean laughed. “No worries, mate.”

“I shouldn’t be goofing off, anyway.” Vi looked down at the cloth in her hands and began to fold it up.

“Everyone needs a break once in a while,” Carson argued. “You work too hard. Take some free time.” Vi gave him a shy smile.

“So, you going to play games at Stephen’s tonight?” Aidan asked, oblivious to Evangeline’s heavy sigh and her shaking her head at him. “We’ll all be there.”

“I was hoping on having other plans, sorry.” Carson didn’t look very sorry. Dean and Aidan wanted to press their occasional bodyguard for details, but Evangeline tugged them away, telling them to leave the poor pair alone and calling them idiots. Aidan and Dean weren’t sure what they’d done wrong, even though Evangeline tried to explain that Vi had a hard time talking to people. What did Vi have to do with them talking to Carson?

Of course, one of the reasons why Vi had a hard time talking to people was waiting for them when they finished their walk and made it back to the set.

Diz looked like he'd been waiting a while, too. After some good-natured griping, Diz finally did a quick repair job of Evangeline’s make-up. Dean was also a quick fix. Aidan, who had to look like he had recently been dying, took longer. As they waited, they found themselves talking about Vi’s shyness. Diz was not amused.

“Keep your eyes straight to the front. I can’t work with you staring at her.” Diz ordered brusquely as he re-applied the dark make-up around the eyes. His latex gloves made the job even harder.

“I didn’t even move my head,” Aidan protested. “And I wasn’t looking at Vi, I was looking at Carson.”

“Speaking of Vi, what was she doing with that thread earlier?” Dean asked.

Diz glared at the actor. For someone shorter than Dean, he could look positively scary. “Embroidery. It’s a hobby of hers. She keeps a kit - thread, needles, fabric - and a book to read with her at all times. We’re not talking about Vi right now. Aidan, I need you to face this way and stop looking at her. Now.”

“Christ. Fine. Psycho. Freak. Aren’t you supposed to be Eva’s make-up person?” Aidan muttered.

“Your normal person is sick, so I took over as back-up today.” The make-up artist finished, hopped down from his box, and put his brushes and tints away while taking off his latex gloves and shoving them in a pocket as he did so. “Call me all the names you want, that doesn’t make them true. Well, some of them are true. Are you actors always this perverted and moody?” Diz asked, his tone stark.

“Perverted?” Dean’s eyes widened. “We are not perverted!”

“You were staring at my sister. Both of you were. I can’t imagine what’s going through your head when you look at her.”

“Hey, now, that’s not fair!” Aidan grabbed Diz’s arm just below his T-shirt, pulling the artist back. “We might not act like it sometimes, but we’re good blokes!”

Diz froze. He didn’t move a single muscle, just stared at Aidan’s hand, then back to Aidan. “You’re… you're not... your hand...”

“What, you’re a germophobe?” Dean asked, trying to smooth it over. Diz's comment may have been uncalled for, but Aidan’s temper got the best of him at the worst times. They were both in the wrong.

“Yes, yes I am.” Diz managed to say. He wrenched his arm free and hurried away from them, pausing to talk to Vi as he left the set.

Dean grabbed onto Aidan to keep him from following. “Let it go. He’s a candy-ass prick, okay? He yelled at you, you yelled at him, you're even.”

Aidan took a deep breath. “Fucker has a sister complex.”

“Yeah, he does.” Evangeline laughed.

 

********************************

 

Ian moped when Isaac had to leave, though he made sure to take both parent and child out for lunch before their flight. Fish and chips, just like he’d promised Hades all those years ago. Isaac was delighted. His poor father was overwhelmed, especially when Ian promised any kind of support, should they ever need it. Being a single parent was difficult. Being a single parent of a God was insanity.

Peter wrote a message to send to the ‘riddle’ Email Athena had left for them, carefully crafted with neutral words. It was simple; said that Simon (who the email was supposedly coming from) knew she was Athena, asked if she was safe and well, and told her that they were all waiting for her to come home. He even confirmed Simon’s true identity. It was sent after much review and debate by all the Gods at Stone Street Studios, and they crossed their fingers that the Email was correct.

It was a very stressful seven hours before she replied.

‘Mister Simon Pegg,

I believe I gave the name of Rose when I posted on your blog. I cannot see how you would have mixed it up for Athena. As you are inquiring about my health, I will say that I am fine, if not unhappy about the chilly weather for this time of year. As for your inquiry about my coming ‘home’, I have long since purchased my own home. I am ‘home’. Thank you for your interest.’

That nearly brought another round of panic for the Gods, but Peter (and Benedict, once Martin had sent him a copy) was quick to point out a flaw in the letter. She never once said she wasn’t Athena. This time, Simon wrote back himself, trying his best to be diplomatic.

‘Athena, Stop bloody trying to shove us away. It’s not going to work. We know you’re hiding, we know you think you’re crazy, but we don’t have time for you to do that! There are two lives at stake! At least talk to us! Meet us! Give us something!’

Ian gave Simon a talking to when he found out about the Email, but the response was worth it.

‘What two lives are at stake?’

Simon considered telling her the truth. She’d usually been annoyed when they’d baited her, but it was such an effective tool that they couldn’t NOT use it. In the end, he wrote back with:

‘Athena,

Two mortals have gotten involved, and Aphrodite isn’t keen on them staying around long enough to meet you, if you understand my meaning. Come along, woman-up and show yourself. They won’t be such a target if you do.’

The final response Athena gave was … odd at best.

‘Mister Simon Pegg, You really are blind, aren’t you?

If you want to meet me, fine. I will meet you. I request a neutral location, though. I will have a dragon to protect my precious book-hoard.’

The Email contained an attachment, with a copy of a press release. The press release they had sent about the Hobbit cast being at the San Diego Comicon in a month.

That was it. No matter how much Simon and Peter wrote back, asking for more information, no response came.

When both the God of the Distractions and the God of Messages complained to their father about how difficult Athena was being, Ian just laughed.

“She’s just being cautious. Really, she’s backed us into a corner.” Ian explained. “Check and mate.”

“I hate chess,” Simon muttered.

Ian laughed.

 

********************

 

Fire. There was fire all around him. Everywhere he turned. It didn’t burn, no, it would never burn him. He walked through it, confident and cool. He could keep himself from burning – it wouldn’t touch his clothes, his hair, or him. Never again would fire be a problem.

Still, this had to be the hundredth time he’d walked down this particular tree, flames surrounding him.

All because Peter wanted a better shot.

Scratch that, all because Peter knew he could use real flames close to Richard in this shot, now. Well, mostly real flames. He didn’t want to set the crew on fire.

Stupid re-shoots.

His legs were aching and his back had cramped up ages ago. His feet hated him. Still, he walked down that fallen tree as majestically as he could, ignoring the pain and the exhaustion. The heat was almost unbearable, with the costume and the flames. He was a God. He was King Arthur. Something as simple as walking down a tree repeatedly shouldn’t bother him.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

A few more times, just a few more times and then he’d be able to curl up on his or Lee’s couch, wrapped up together as they watched a movie or read a book. Lee loved reading out loud to him, especially if he drifted off during it.

The boys would be all right for the night, wouldn’t they? It wasn’t as if they were completely incompetent.

Then again, experience said otherwise.

Still, Pothos and Himeros were both in jail, and there was security watching the lads. He could call James and ask him to keep an eye on them, if they really needed it. No, wait, James did things like trying to get them to go skydiving (and succeeding, in Aidan’s case). Not James. Graham. Graham was good.

He’d gotten all the way down the tree again when he realized he was going through potential babysitters for Aidan and Dean.

Maybe Lee was right about having kids.

When Peter finally (thankfully) called an end to it, Richard left the set as quickly as he could. Upon reaching the trailers, he found that the lights in Lee’s trailer were on. That would be the first stop, then. He didn’t even bother to check for anybody watching, though his powers told him that nobody was in viewing distance, unless they were peering out a window of a trailer. There were days he was grateful for his tribal radar. He pulled his copy of Lee’s key from his trouser pocket and opened the door, then removed the Dwarf boots as quickly as he could once inside. The jacket came next, followed by the belt and outer tunic.

“Oh, baby, take it all off.” Lee whistled at Richard from the kitchenette.

“It’s not going to be as sexy once I get to the muscle suit,” Richard gave Lee a smile.

“Says you. I love to see you squirm until you get that thing off. You move in some of the most… interesting ways.” Lee pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to Richard. “Here. I heard you were doing a fire scene re-shoot today. This’ll help.”

Richard took the bottle gratefully and took a drink before resuming the removal of his costume – his wig was carefully removed, tiny bits of spirit gum sticking to his skin. His false forehead and nose were a little more difficult. “Blasted costume,” Richard muttered.

Lee chuckled and retrieved a bottle from the bathroom, a solvent. “You should have stayed and let the make-up assistants get this off you. It’s faster and you don’t wind up swearing. Come here.”

Lee calmly helped remove the latex and make-up, using the solvent here and there. Richard sighed in relief when the last piece came off. He quickly rid himself of his false hands and inner tunic, then the trousers. The muscle suit went next, Lee refusing to help as he watched Richard squirm. That left Richard in just his athletic undershirt, soaked with sweat despite the design, and boxers. He made a very nice picture: The Englishman sitting on the floor, surrounded by his cast-away costume, hair sweaty and sapphire blue eyes shining in the pleasure of the cool air of the trailer. Lee decided he liked that picture very much. “What are you doing?” Richard asked as Lee held up his mobile.

“Capturing this moment,” Lee answered. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are right now.”

“I’m sweaty, I’m exhausted, and I’m sitting the floor.”

“Exactly,” Lee grinned as he took several photos. “I want to remember this when we’re old and wrinkly. My perfect God.”

“You’re insane,” Richard flopped back, onto the floor. Lee took one last photo and set the camera down. “I need a shower and rest.”

Lee lips twitched up in a smirk. “You’ll need a shower, true, but not because of filming…” He knelt down on the floor next to Richard, shoving random bits of the costume aside. He grasped the hem of the T-shirt and tugged it at it. Richard obliged, arcing his back to Lee could remove the shirt. Lee took it upon himself to take advantage of that lovely arced body, planting kisses on the sweaty stomach, then chest as he worked. A tiny bite on a nipple, which elicited a hiss from Richard, then a kiss on it to apologize. As he pulled the shirt off completely, Lee took advantage of access to his lover’s neck, then ear. He finally met Richard’s lips, straddling the Englishman as his hands slid downwards towards the waistband. Lee slid down his body, following the trail of his hands with his lips.

“Uhm… Lee?” Richard managed to gather his wits enough to say.

“Hm?” Lee pulled himself away from Richard long enough to look up at him. “What is it, my King?”

“I think I can walk to the bedroom.”

Lee pretended to think about that for a moment. “No need. I’m yours, there, here, anywhere, my King” His hands finally removed the last of the sweaty clothes. “And YOU… Are. Mine. Let me delight you…”

 

**********************

 

Richard wrapped an arm around Lee as they snuggled on the floor in a spare blanket Lee had removed from the linen closet. His Lee. “I love you.”

Lee froze. They hadn’t… actually said that to one another yet. It had been some sort of secret that they didn’t dare utter in case the fairy tale was broken. Sure, Richard had met his parents… and yes, they’d even talked about having children. But those three little words were so… SERIOUS.

“How about that shower?” Lee asked, pulling himself up. “You hop in, I’ll get the clothes.”

Richard latched onto Lee’s arm. “I’m sorry,” the Englishman said, looking upset. “Too much. I didn’t mean to push, it was an accident. My brain thought it, and I was too tired to stop my mouth from saying it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… ” Richard couldn’t look him in the eye.

When the Dwarf started to stand – slowly, as his muscles protested any use – Lee helped him up and to the shower. The American stepped out as Richard started to scrub the sweat of the day’s work… and play… off of himself.

Richard was startled when Lee pulled back the shower curtain, stepping in with him. “Why waste the water?” Lee leaned down and dropped a kiss on Richard’s wet lips. “I love you, too.”

 

**************************

 

Aidan was certain that this was hell.

There could be no other explanation. He had to wear a suit – a bloody suit! – that Fran had pulled out of somewhere for him. It wasn’t even a cool suit. It was plain. Black. And a tie! He had to wear a tie! What sort of maniac thought that wearing a tie was a good idea?

There were, of course, some good things that came of it. Dean had a wear a suit, too. He, however, was cheating. He’d ‘borrowed’ one of his Almighty Johnsons suits, a silver number with a deep purple button up shirt and matching handkerchief, and slicked his hair back until his random curls decided to behave themselves. He looked… delicious. Aidan wanted to remove every piece of the suit, slowly and carefully.

He glanced in the mirror again. His curls stuck out everywhere, the suit wasn’t perfectly tailored to him, and his handkerchief wasn’t ironed. He looked like a child in his father’s clothing. Damn. At least he’d been able to get his tie right.

“What’s wrong? You’re making faces at the mirror.” Dean came up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“I look stupid,” Aidan complained.

“I think you look perfect,” Dean looked confused. “Absolutely adorable. Yum.”

“Thank you for sparing my feelings,” Aidan sighed.

“Here, comb your hair back, I’ve got gel. It’ll make you look more… debonair.” Dean pulled out a tin of gel and a comb and proceeded to attack Aidan’s wild curls with a vengeance. He managed to get it into some semblance of order, though the ends refused to straighten out. “See?”

“Now I look like a kid who’s gotten into his father’s closet AND product. Ugh.” Aidan rubbed his face. “Do I have to do this?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“I feel like I’m going to the gallows,” Aidan complained.

“Could be worse. It’s just an interview. We go, we sit down, we talk about nothing, and that’s it.” Dean shrugged. A knock came at the door, and Dean wandered over to open it. “Hey, Carson.”

“Hello. I am to escort you to the car for your safety.” Carson grinned. “I stole some doughnuts for you, too. Figured you wouldn’t have time for breakfast.” He held up a box.

“Bless you!” Aidan reached for the box, pulling one of the sweets out. “You’re my new favourite person.” He said in-between bites. “After Dean.” Carson laughed.

Dean made sure he had his key in his pocket before encouraging Aidan to eat and walk at the same time. He pretended not to notice that Aidan was wearing a pair of boots with his suit. Apparently, Aidan didn’t have any dress shoes. Well, interviewers never did full-body shots, anyway. When they finally reached the car-park, Richard and Martin were just pulling out. Damn. Two minutes earlier and he wouldn’t have had to drive. Instead, Dean slid into the driver’s side of his car.

“You coming?” Aidan asked Carson. 

“Nope, sorry. Much as I love hanging with you guys, I’ve got office work I’ve got to do today. It’s what comes with being a Captain. Trust me, I’d rather be following you two around, at least you let me play video games.” Carson handed Aidan the whole box of doughnuts.

Aidan looked from the box to Carson. “You’re bribing us with doughnuts so you can play games the next time you’ve got ‘Prince’ duty, aren’t you?”

Carson nodded. “You caught me. By the way, we don’t call it ‘Prince’ duty.”

“What do you call it?”

“I don’t call it anything. Following you two isn’t work to me, except when you think it’s funny to try to hide. Al calls it ‘Idiot Duty’. Everyone else calls it ‘Baby Dwarf Duty’.” Carson grinned.

“Wow, I feel… very unloved.” Aidan joked. He slid into the car. “Who’s supposed to be with us today?”

“Al. He’ll be here soon, I’m sure of it.”

Dean and Aidan shared a glance. Al… really didn’t like them. If they didn’t know better, they’d say Al and Diz were in a conspiracy to make their lives hell. Well, Martin made their lives hell, but in a humorous way. Al and Diz weren’t so fun. “You know what, I think we’re fine by ourselves.” Dean said, turning the vehicle on.

“Not a good idea,” Carson warned. “You’re supposed to have one of us with you.”

Aidan bit his lip. “Can’t you just come, instead? You’ve only got one person above you, right? You can change your schedule. ”

Carson sagged his shoulders. “I don’t want to get fired.”

“Peter won’t fire you if we’ve asked you to come. I swear.” Dean promised.

Carson looked around nervously, then opened the back door and slid in. “All right, let’s go.”

 

***************************

 

Adam leaned back on the bench outside of Bag End. “Don’t do that, you’ll wrinkle your suit.” Mark teased.

“I’m bored.” Adam declared. “And I’m really wishing I had my woolen mittens right now.”

Mark laughed. “It’s more than a bit chilly. Not much longer though, we’re up after James, Stephen, and William.”

A glance at the ‘Ur’ trio of Dwarves told Adam that the three were most of the way through their interview. James kept trying to steal the spotlight, but Stephen kept putting him back in his place. William was spending most of his time watching the two vie back and forth, trying to keep a straight face. At that exact moment, James was talking excitedly about the fact that all three of them were using Irish accents... which Stephen oddly excelled at.

It was going to be a while.

Richard’s car pulled up. He loved driving, it was calming to him, for some reason. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing; the Englishman’s sense of direction left much to be desired (they’d even included that into the movie), and his aversion to most technology meant that he didn’t use a GPS system. Really, what kind of person could use a sword like they were born with it in their hands, know nature like a tracker, tell stories like an old soothsayer, and couldn’t figure out how to change the ringtone on their mobile?

“He’s halfway on time. Hm. That’s odd. I would’ve put money on him getting here late.” Mark glanced over at Richard’s car. “Ah, that’s why he’s not lost. Martin’s with him. Clever of our little Hobbit, keeping the King from getting lost.”

“Morning, gents.” Richard headed up the pathway to the little Hobbit hole. “Bloody hell getting here. Martin kept telling me the wrong directions.” Martin, from behind the oblivious King, made strangling motions towards Richard.

Mark hung his head, trying to hide his laughter. He could just imagine what that entire car ride had been like for Martin. It was a wonder he hadn’t killed Richard on the way here. Adam, however, looked confused. “Why didn’t you just get a driver?”

“Because I like driving,” Richard shrugged. “Martin, I can see your shadow, by the way. My driving wasn’t that bad.”

“That bad? THAT BAD? You got us lost FOUR times. FOUR.” Martin’s voice went into Bilbo-mode, that worried, stressed out tone the Hobbit got when something went hideously wrong… like having Dwarves raid his pantry. He marched around until he was standing in front of Richard, holding up four fingers, and then, one middle finger. “And then you nearly got us killed by going the wrong way down a one-way street!”

“We didn’t die,” Richard looked confused.

“Barely,” Martin scoffed.

Mark was busy committing this conversation to memory – oh, how much fun it would be to tell at a reunion dinner! He had his eyes closed, lest the little mortal Adam see them change colours while he memorized. Adam, however, was more interested in Richard. “Did you dress in the dark?”

Richard looked down at his outfit. A red plaid shirt – a gag gift from Aidan and Dean, they claimed they all needed to match – along with a brown suit jacket and jeans. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Richard, I know you’re behind the times, but red, brown, and blue don’t go together. That stopped being a good look… a hundred years ago.” Mark explained. “Maybe longer than that. We were supposed to dress nicely for these interviews. That is not nicely. Stop being in denial.”

“Who’s in the Nile?” Stephen asked as he walked up. “You know, it might actually be nice to be there right now. Sun, sand, and no suits. Ugh.” He pulled his tie off. “I think it’s your turn.”

“It is,” Mark said. “Come on, little brother. No need to be nervous, just let Jeb talk. We won’t get a word in edgewise.”

“I’m not nervous,” Adam lied.

“Right. And I’m the Greek God of teatime.” Mark rolled his eyes.

Stephen let out a guffaw at that, earning him stares from his co-workers. “Sorry, just thought that was funny… ‘cause, you know, there isn’t a God of teatime.”

“…right…” Martin nodded. “You’re an odd one, you know that?”

Stephen gave a bow. “Of course.” Mark just herded Adam towards Bag End, shaking his head.

“Where’s the lads?” Richard looked around. “They were getting in their car just as we left. They had to beat us, Martin kept getting us lost.”

Stephen shook his head. “I haven’t seen them yet. I thought they’d get here with you, aren’t you scheduled for double interviews with them and our Hobbit?”

“Yes…” Richard looked around. Graham was over by a truck, talking with James. Stephen was standing in front of them, and Adam was being interviewed… or rather, watching Jeb take over the interview. Ian wasn’t here; he claimed he was feeling too poorly for an interview. Richard was certain that the Lightning God just didn’t want to be out in the cold. Clever bugger. That was everyone Aidan and Dean spent time with. “They should’ve been here by now.” It didn’t feel right.

Stephen didn’t look worried. “Maybe they stopped for something to eat. You know Aid, he’s either eating, sleeping, or running around like a maniac.”

“No, Carson had a box of doughnuts when they walked to the car. I remember, I was thinking that was a much better breakfast than what I had.” Martin suddenly felt his chest tighten. Richard was right to worry.

The Dwarven King pulled out his mobile, pressing buttons. “What’s the number for the head of security?”

Martin took his out own phone and dialed, lucky he’d been smart enough to put the number on his autodial. “Here, I’ve got the line ringing now.” He waited just a moment, and as soon as the head of security picked up, he started talking rapidly. “Hey, it’s me, we’ve got a problem here… Yes, well, my problem is bigger than your problem. Aidan and Dean still haven’t shown up. I know they’re flighty, but they’re good about being on time for work… Bloody… Fuck…” He moved the receiver away from his mouth. “She says that Al, who was supposed to go with them today, can’t find them. Dean’s car is gone.”

“What about Carson?” Richard asked.

Martin repeated the question, then winced. “He hasn’t shown up at the office. Our security head was hoping he’d gone with the boys, but if they’re not here… and they’re not there…”

Richard’s heart fell. No, this wasn’t good. This bloody well couldn’t be happening! “Give me that,” he took the mobile from Martin, whose hands had started to shake. It didn’t matter if you were a God or not, certain things just elicited a very human response. He spoke rapidly to the head of security, hoping that he was wrong… but the more information he got from her, the worse the situation felt.

“They’re… they’re missing?” Stephen asked, grabbing Martin’s tidy and pressed jacket sleeve. It was going to need ironing again. “What’s going on?”

Martin took a deep breath. “I need your help. First thing, lend me your mobile while Richard’s using mine.” Stephen handed it over with no questions, looking concerned about his friends. Martin found Aidan's number, and called. Straight to voicemail. Dean's was next, with the same result. Finally, Martin tried Ian. It rang and rang. Sod it all! Martin handed Stephen his mobile back, keeping his features neutral besides the rising panic. “No good. Can you do me a favour?”

“Sure, anything.” Stephen agreed.

“Keep the interviewer busy. Don’t let her realize that we’ve gone. Do whatever you can. Keep Jeb talking, that should work for a while. Get the others involved. I’ll talk to James, get him to help you.” Martin instructed. Sod it all! Whenever Zeus was unreachable, it would usually fall to Athena to take charge. Without her, it fell to him. Problem was, he didn’t know what he was doing.

Stephen gave Martin a sloppy salute and wandered towards the interview set, poking his head into the camera frame. Martin could hear him telling the interviewer that he wanted to hang out with his buddy Adam. The poor interviewer had no choice but to run with it, or risk making the actors angry. Stephen must’ve been taking distraction lessons from Simon.

Martin made Richard hang up and follow him to Graham’s truck, where they quickly informed them of the situation. “I’m going to see if I can get a vision on their location or what’s going on. James, can you help keep in the interviewer distracted?”

“You mean keep this whole thing from becoming a media nightmare? Not a problem.” James gave Martin a nod.

“Thank you,” Martin sounded very sincere about that. “Richard, is there any way you can-“

“They’re approximately seven miles from here. East. I can give a better location the closer I get.” Richard nodded.

Mark strode up, annoyance on his features He crossed his arms and glared at them. “What is going on?”

James gave his old friend a worried look. “We need to play distraction for the interviewer.”

“What? Why?” Mark looked worried.

:Short version, Dean and Aidan are gone.”

“They’re always vanishing on us. Nothing new.” Mark was confused. “The lads love shirking their security and vanishing on us.”

“Their security is missing, too.” Martin explained. “And their security is CARSON, you know what kind of man he is. He wouldn’t leave them alone. And I can’t get a hold of Ian."

“Dear Gods…” Mark whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.. we have two missing actors and a missing security guard. Ian is resting, so he's unavailable, but Peter will found out quickly enough. And he won't be happy.
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome and encouraged.


	21. Heroes of all kinds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which Dean asks about a Goddess, Aidan is molested, and Dean's mother holds a barbeque

Dean’s head hurt.

It wasn’t just a ‘crap, had too much to drink last night’ type of hurt. This was closer to a ‘smacked self in the head with sword again’ type of hurt. Not pleasant. But also not too bad. He’d had worse. Still, he couldn’t remember why his head hurt. He moved to rub his head with a hand, to check for blood.

He couldn’t move his hands.

They were behind his back, tied together with a length of something scratchy. A rough rope, probably. He was on a cold and unforgiving surface. He opened his eyes to a dark room. “Aid? Aidan?” He couldn’t see, couldn’t tell if Aidan was nearby.

“Dean, go back t’ sleep… head hurts…” Dean heard Aidan mumble, off to his left. Accent-heavy and slurred, Dean was willing to bet his boyfriend was sleep-talking again.

Dean shifted, rolling onto his back. His head protested every tiny motion. “Aidan, you need to wake up. We need to get out of here.”

His head exploded in pain as light suddenly flooded his vision. His pain-addled brain responded by delivering every swear word he knew directly to his lips. When had he learned Norwegian ones? He must’ve picked them up from Benedict.

“Your head will stop hurting momentarily. We have found that it takes the mind a few minutes to adjust right after waking.” A voice said calmly. Female. The accent was… something he couldn’t recognize. Not from the U.K., not Australian nor Kiwi, and not American. Well, probably not American. It was surprising, how many American accents there actually were. “Just rest calmly.”

Dean’s eyes slowly adjusted to the light. He was in a large room with a smoothened concrete floor, some sort of abandoned office building. The windows were boarded up, and bits of abandoned furniture could be seen in the low light. Electricity wasn’t running, but a camping lantern was turned on, illuminating exactly what his kidnappers wanted him to focus on: A woman who sat on an old desk nearby, wearing a gorgeous tight red dress, just short enough to generate lots of interest and barely long enough to leave certain things to Dean’s imagination. Probably around his age, if not a little younger, with dark brown hair cut in a professional-looking bob. She was filing her nails, though it was obvious she’d been watching her captives despite her interest in her manicure. After all, it had been too dark to have been doing that before she turned the light on. “Who are you?”

“Someone who can help you, if you let me.” She answered. “You may call me Nediva.”

What would Ian do in this situation? Well, Ian would zap this woman with a few bolts of lightning. Maybe he should think about someone who didn’t have superpowers. James Bond? No, James Bond had gadgets. Dean was certain his watch didn’t have a laser in it. Okay, what would Anders do? Anders would smooth-talk. Dean wasn’t sure if he could manage that, but he could certainly talk. “Do you always help people by kidnapping them, giving them headaches, and tying them up?”

“I did not give you a headache. He did.” Nediva pointed over to a chair, just barely inside the ring of visible light. A man, obviously elderly, sat reading a book. “You must forgive him, his English is not good. Maybe one time, he will come from an English family, but not yet. He is Philippe. You know his other name.”

“Other name?” Dean repeated dumbly, beside him, Aidan began to stir, shoving away the mantle of sleep.

“Hypnos,” Nediva explained. The man looked up for a moment, staring at her. She said something, and Dean could pick out a couple words from his lessons with Ian. Greek. Shit. “He is the God of Sleep.”

“Tell him he’s got a regular worshipper in Aidan, then.” Dean shifted a little closer to his Aidan, noticing that the headache was subsiding fast. That was good. He was appearing calm; that was even better. Who knew that acting came in handy when you were kidnapped? “So which Goddess are you?”

Nediva looked impressed. “Adikia.”

“Goddess of Injustice?”

That was not the right thing to say. Nediva slammed her manicured hand down on the desk, her breathing tensed, and Dean was certain her eyes shifted to a dark, blood red. Hypnos, in his chair, said something in what Dean assumed was Greek (he was able to pick out the word for ‘stupid’, which Mark had taught him). Nediva spat some words back at the elderly man and slid off the table, pacing irritably. “I was made who I am because the Universe needed someone who could personify the concept. I had no choice in it! It is no different from being born with blue eyes! I am NOT a bad person!”

Oh, he’d hit a nerve.

Before Dean could say anything, Aidan spoke. “It’s not your fault. Okay. They were mean to you, because of what your powers are?” Dean tried to glance over at Aidan without being obvious. His Irishman seemed to be all right.

“My life is none of your business, you little… you… Do not try to say you understand, either, you child.” Nediva spat at him. Literally.

The pain in his head now gone, Dean tried to remember what happened. They’d been driving, and had stopped at a red light. Carson had been telling them to turn the radio on, and Aidan had been hovering a hand over the button while teasing their friend. The next thing he’d known, someone had wrenched the door open, held a gun to his temple, and demanded the car keys. It hadn’t been this woman, it had been a man that had attacked them. Dean had handed the keys over, praying it was just a simple theft. Then… it was a blank. Aidan was next to him, but Carson…. “Where’s Carson?”

“Carson?” Nediva made a face.

“The other bloody guy!” Aidan exclaimed. “Our friend! And why the fuck does my head hurt?”

“It will stop hurting soon. As for your friend, he is alive.” The Goddess motioned to a dark corner, where the two actors could see a human form, vaguely Carson-shaped. It was too dark to tell if the security guard was all right, but they could see a slight rise and fall in the man’s chest. That was better than the other option. “We had no reason to kill him. It would have only made you angrier.”

“Let me guess, you’re going to go all Bond villain on us and tell us your plans before killing us.” Dean asked, struggling to pull himself into a sitting position. It was a lot harder to do tied up.

“Bond?” Nediva looked confused. “I do not know what you mean by that, but I can assure you… killing you is not the plan.”

“Then why’d you tie us up?” Aidan asked. “I’m really not into that.”

“You make jokes when you should be serious, you must be more frightened than you think. It is a common defense strategy. To make fun, maybe it will turn out all right. You are a child. I had my men restrain you because I did not want to you kill me. That will probably not stop you, little one,” she glared at Aidan. “But it will slow you down. You are too young to know how to do much. I want to talk.”

“About what?” Dean asked before Aidan could make another inappropriate comment. He really didn’t want to piss this woman off – she could very well decide to kill them after all. In hindsight, Anders Johnson only got away with smooth-talking and witty comments because he was, well, Bragi. The real Bragi was back in England. No help there.

“How I can help you,” Nediva explained, slowly, as if to a child. “You are actors, yes?” They both nodded. “But not Hollywood. Would you like to be? To be Hollywood actors, get jobs you could only dream of. You can have money and women all you want.” That sounded smug.

“There’s a catch. There’s always a catch.” Dean said. “Or you wouldn’t have tied us up.”

“No catch. You finish this movie, then you go to Hollywood. I know someone who can get you any job you want. She has power, in Hollywood. And money. Everything you desire, you could have.” The Goddess took up her perch on the table again, looking very… enticing.

“Aphrodite,” Aidan scowled, pulling to a sitting position next to Dean. “She’s offering us a job?”

“Any job. Any money. You could even have a Goddess of your own. Athena is always very beautiful, and she would have you, Mister O’Gorman.”

Aidan bristled at that. Not only had he been the first to be brought in as bait for Athena, but Dean was his! Talk about a blow to his ego. He was just about to run his mouth off when Dean nudged him and shook his head slightly. “Why do you think Athena would like me, Nediva? Why not Aidan? What proof do you have that I can trust you on this? What if you just kill us?”

“She will want you because you are mortal. Her hero. If we kill you, that would make our little Athena very, very angry. We want her happy. If she is happy, she will listen. She will help us. And you can help us, you have information on Zeus. As for you, Mister Turner, would you not like to be around those that understand you now? You think Zeus will understand you? No. That is why your predecessor came with us, when our kind became two factions. Zeus will only… coddle, yes, that is the word – coddle you for so long. Two or three lifetimes, before he grows tired of you. Not to mention, he cannot give you the power and place in the world that we can.” The Goddess looked smug. “Power, money, women, everything a God should have, do you not agree?”

What the hell was she talking about?

Aidan was about to open his mouth to speak when Dean interrupted. “A Goddess for me, hm? Would I get to paint, to do my photography? I need money to do that, you know. Would I get it?”

Outside, a storm opened up, pounding everything with a deluge of rain.

 

*********************************************

 

Richard and Graham had left Mark and James to handle the interviewer. Martin had stayed behind as well, promising to call if he’d gotten any visions. So far, the only one he’d come up with had been symbolic at best – the New Zealand flag upside down, a picture of Mata Hari, Aidan asleep, and a shield. He’d promised to call if he got anything that was actually helpful.

“Why did you get to drive?” Graham demanded. “It’s my vehicle!”

“Because I know where I’m going and you don’t!”

“Says the man who had to ask me where the canteen was for the first two weeks,” Graham grumbled.

“You try to get a hold of Ian, I drive. We all have our jobs.” Richard ordered. “I know where the lads are, we just have to get to them. Bloody traffic!” He rolled down a window and stuck his head out. “Sod off, you lot! Get off the fucking road or I will make you!”

Graham pulled Richard’s head back in the window. “Not the time for that, it doesn’t help. Focus on the lads.” Richard sank back in his seat and glared at the traffic, sweat trickling down his brow. Odd, he didn’t remember turning the heat on. Still, Graham was right, even if he wasn’t happy about it. Graham focused on the mobile in his hands, preparing to try Ian again.

He shouldn’t have worried.

He hadn’t noticed the clouds that had suddenly rolled in, or the rumbling stemming from them. Weather outlets around the world would later describe the storm as a freak event caused by some sort of sunspots. A pleasant little jingle chirped from the device in Graham’s hands.

Ian was calling.

Graham put the phone on speaker so Richard could hear.

“Sir-“

“Where are they?” Ian’s voice over the speakers was cold and cruel. Graham pitied whoever had to be the bearer of bad news… probably Simon or Peter.

“We’re on our way. Richard can find them.” Graham promised. “He’s driving.”

“Are they dead?” Ian sounded nervous when he asked that.

“I wouldn’t be able to find them if they were. I can find my tribe, not dead bodies. That’s not how it works.” Richard shouted at the phone. “They’re alive. For now.”

“They had better be alive when you bring them back here, Richard.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. If anything happens, there will be hell to pay.” Richard agreed.

Graham hung up then, letting Richard drive properly as the skies opened and the rain poured down. Lightning rampaged, hitting nearby buildings and forcing the mortals to scurry inside out of terror. The rain was so heavy that Richard could barely see ten feet in front of him to drive. Damnit Ian, this was no time to lose control!

 

***********************************

 

“Money to paint… I am quite sure Athena would give it to you. She would keep you so very, very safe, little mortal. And we would help. Anything you want.” Nediva promised. “Could you imagine it? A life where you could have whatever you wanted? Even Emperors could not manage what we can.” She slid off the table and knelt down to caress the side of Dean’s face, slowly moving her hand down to his pressed shirt. They talked softly, so low that even Aidan couldn’t hear them over the rain.

Aidan had to hold himself back, lest he kill the wench touching his boyfriend.

Was Dean really his boyfriend?

They hadn’t really talked about that. They’d been on a whirlwind of adventure, from on-set antics to nights spent together and roaming New Zealand looking for things to do. They’d never actually said… they were dating. It was just sort of implied. After that first time, when Hephaestus had tried to kill them… they really had only talked about it once, and then… then they’d just rolled with it.

And now here they were, sitting on the cold concrete with a Goddess promising Dean the world, and Dean was negotiating himself a deal. Sodding bastard. Aidan looked down at the ground, unable to stand it anymore. A ploy? A way to keep women away from him until he could get his Goddess? Was that the reason why Dean had gone along with it, all this time? He wanted the Goddess? Aidan was certain he’d gotten dust from this old building in his eyes – they were beginning to water.

Nediva’s manicured nails forced Aidan to tip his head back up. “What is wrong, pretty one? Afraid you will be left behind?”

“Fuck. You.” Aidan spat.

“Is that any way for you to treat a senior Goddess? I’ve been around much longer than you, little one. Just because Zeus gave you the gift of fire, that doesn’t mean he will keep you. You can come with, pretty little thing. I would not mind having you.” Nediva purred at him. “There is so much about our world you need to learn. You do know why he decided on you, don’t you? He likes symbols, your name is perfect – ‘fiery one’. He can control you, since he made you. He could no longer control Hephaestus. You were convenient. Let us teach you…” She ran a hand down his chest and… kept going towards his groin.

Holy… Fuck. Aidan swallowed.

“Wait, what do you mean about Zeus making him?” Dean asked.

“Hephaestus is gone. This one took his place. You did not know? That tells you how important you are you Zeus. Not at all.” Her words were to Dean, but Nediva continued to touch Aidan everywhere she could, staring into his brown eyes. With his hands tied behind him, there wasn’t much the Irishman could do about it. It did, however, make concentrating on anything else very, very difficult. Aidan couldn't even get his thoughts together to come up with a witty retort.

“I thought Zeus said that Gods zap each other when they touch for the first time in a life,” Dean asked.

“Too young. He is too new, nothing more than a… rub feet on carpet shock.” The Goddess explained.

“You mean static shock,” Dean corrected, watching intently as the Goddess touched Aidan everywhere. Aidan kept trying to shift away, hissing swear words and glaring at the woman with every part of his being, but their position on the floor and tied hands made moving away difficult.

“Static shock, yes. My English is not so good, I had not used it in three lives, that makes it harder to catch up.” Nediva practically purred. “You move so much when I touch you, I cannot wait to see how you move in bed… Would you like that?” She slid her hands up his untucked shirt, and Aidan hissed.

A phone rang, and Hypnos answered it. The old man in the chair said something to the mobile, then to the Goddess. She reluctantly backed away from Aidan, looking annoyed, and took the device from Hypnos, talking quickly in a language neither actor could understand. She hung up, a scowl gracing her otherwise beautiful features. She spoke to the old man, and then went back to the two young men sitting on the floor.

“We do not have much time, Zeus knows you are gone. Our spy found out that he has sent someone to retrieve you. What will it be, will you go with us and be free, away from Zeus and his laws? Will you have whatever you want, do whatever you want? Mister O’Gorman, you can become the consort of one of the most powerful Goddess to walk this Earth. Mister Turner, with practice, you can become one of the most powerful Gods. Dolos said we have ten minutes before Prometheus arrives. He will have his father with him. Iapetus is not a fighter, but is still dangerous. So, tell me what I want to know. Us, along with money and freedom… or them and their rules.”

“I’ll tell you,” Dean agreed. He wouldn’t look at Aidan. “I want to create art, I want to enjoy life. I want to spend my nights with the most beautiful creature in the world. I know Aidan usually loves women, and I know that Ian likes control. I also know one… last… thing…”

“Yes?” Nediva grinned, leaning over him.

“I know that Carson has a taser, and he’s been awake through most of your crazy speech.” Dean grinned. He kicked out at the Goddess, planning a solid foot into her abdomen.

A lot of things happened at once. Fire erupted into the room, starting with the desk the Goddess had been sitting on and reaching up towards the rafters. Carson moved, pulling his taser out and using it on the old man. The door to the warehouse busted open, propelled by Godly strength. Richard stepped through first, followed by Graham.

“He brought a HERO?” Nediva shouted, her face contorted. She screamed a series of words, in whatever language she preferred, turning to Hypnos. The old man was on the floor, having lost not just muscle control, but also control of his bowels. He was useless right now. Her powers were of no use in a fight. Where were her men that she’d instructed to watch the doors?

The God once known as King Arthur marched forward, unheeding of the flames that had spread, even over the concrete, to the wooden walls. He reached the Goddess, pulled back a fist, and smiled. “You. Do. Not. Touch. My. Boys.” The fist connected, knocking the woman back and unconscious with a single blow. He loomed over her, contemplating whether or not he should let her live.

Graham was already working on cutting Aidan and Dean’s bonds with a pen knife he’d had on him. As soon as their bonds were loose, Graham had them pulled up and on their feet. “We need to move, we counted five hired goons, and we’ve only taken out four. We’re not sure if that last one has a gun, but two of the others did.” He turned, staring at Richard.

It was taking everything the usually shy Englishman had to keep from killing the Goddess who lay sprawled in front of him. Not only had she taken the lads, but she’s tried to convince them to leave their tribe. She’s betrayed her own tribe. She was a liability. He clenched his hands, once, then twice. Then, he stepped over her, to Carson. The security guard was no longer tied up, but his wrists were covered in blood. Whatever he’d used to cut his bonds had shredded his skin as well. Richard carefully helped Carson up – the Goddess may not have killed him, but she’d certainly beaten him, and the Englishman couldn’t tell if she’d broken any of the security guard’s bones. Carson apparently hadn’t been what they were after – they’d kept him alive only too keep the lads placated.

Still, the security guard apparently had more strength in him than what Richard had thought. As they passed the unconscious Goddess and now unconscious God, Carson tugged Richard back. “We can’t leave them, they’ll die in this fire!”

Carson was right. No matter how much Richard wanted to leave the Goddess and God behind, it would be murder. He’d killed in war, he’d killed to protect… but he’d never outright murdered someone Damn it. The problem was, he couldn’t actually stop the fire. Well, he COULD, but he didn’t know HOW. Starting the fire was one thing, turning off the floodgates was another. And right now, he knew he couldn’t turn it off, not with how angry he was.

“Aidan, Dean!” Richard called to them. They came over, staring at him with wide eyes and something Graham would later claim was admiration. They were impressed - they had their own personal action hero for a pseudo-parent. Richard slid the limping Carson into the lads’ waiting arms, putting one of Carson’s arms over each of their shoulders. “Go! Get out of here! Avoid that last man.” Richard shoved the vehicle keys into Dean’s hands. The Dwarven Princes didn’t even look nervous as they nodded, turned, and helped Carson out through the door. They looked… determined. Richard felt a glimmer of pride in them – they may not have been his children, but his parental instinct really didn’t care.

That pride turned into a pitiful look when Richard turned back to Graham, then stared at the flames around them. “I don’t know how to stop it yet!” Richard shouted over the sound of the roaring flames. “It’s too big, I haven’t practised with anything that large yet! Shall we just drag them out?”

Graham laughed. “Did you honestly just ask me that?” He raised his hands and threw his head back. The flames began to recede. In less than two minutes, they were gone completely; only a charred roof and walls telling the story of Richard’s temper. The roof shifted on them, beams no long strong enough to hold the weight of the metal above. “Practise, little cousin.”

Richard’s jaw dropped. “You need to show me how to do that.”

“After we get them out of here. That roof can go any second. It’s risky, to stick around…” Graham glanced at Richard out of the corner of his eye. “We could get hurt taking them out. And they did kidnap the lads…”

“We drag them out, then leave them for the police. I’m sure they’ll show up shortly. Unless you know how to get them to Ian?” Richard asked. Graham shook his head. “I’m not going to leave them to die.”

“That’s the right answer,” Graham nodded at him. He took the elderly man, Hypnos, dragging him out and trying to ignore the smell. Richard took the woman, not paying much attention to what her bare legs dragged over. There wasn’t a lot of debris, but there was some, and it wasn’t his fault if she accidentally was scraped on a piece of debris. Or twenty.

When they finally reached the storm-riddled outdoors, they discovered that their clever boys had found the truck, and were huddled inside, heat obviously on to dry out their wet clothes. In the back of the truck, a burly man was laid out, head to the side and pockets gone through. Looks like they’d found the last person Adikia had hired. As Richard and Graham watched, the lights flashed from one of the dark cars parked nearby. Dean pointed frantically at the vehicle, and it was surprisingly Richard that worked it out.

“They’ve got the key fob. Here, you hold her, I’ll get it. We can load them up in the car, take them back to the studio instead of letting the mortal authorities deal with them. No sense in going back to Bag End, they’ll have moved the interviews inside, with all the rain.” Richard pointed at the car.

Graham nodded, staring at the sky. How the hell were they going to explain THIS?

 

*****************************

 

“Mum, no. I don’t care that you’ve already talked to her, it’s too much trouble for a barbeque!” Dean protested. “How did you even get her number?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “She called YOU? How did she get YOUR number? I see…” He took the phone away from his mouth for a moment. “Richard, you have my parents’ phone number on your mobile? How did you do that?”

Richard didn’t look up from the crossword puzzle. “She did it. Wanted to make sure I could call her if you got into trouble. Your Mum likes me, she calls often. I thought Lee's mother needed someone to talk to... aside from my mother.”

“Mum likes everybody. As a matter of fact, she wants everyone to come up for a Hobbit Cast barbeque, and Lee’s mother is helping her. By the way, she wants your parents to come, too.” Dean rolled his eyes, then moved the receiver back. “No, Mum, I didn’t just roll my eyes. Mum, you can’t HEAR someone roll their eyes.” He wanted to get up and pace, but Ian’s trailer didn’t lend itself to that activity very well.

It was bad enough that he and Aidan had been kidnapped, or that they had no idea where his car was, or that Aidan had taken a few bad hits when he'd dealt with that last thug, or that Carson had lost consciousness partway home, but Dean’s mother just HAD to call. He was certain she had some sort of Mum-radar that told her when her babies were in trouble. He’d have to ask Rhea if such a thing was real. He was fairly certain it was.

He hadn’t even had time to sit down and process the whole thing. They’d parked Graham’s truck and had been swamped with frantic assistants, security, and medics. Even Al, who had turned up, didn’t have the chance to harass Dean and Aidan before they were dragged away to Ian’s trailer. Dean and Aidan’s mobiles had been in the pocket of Hypnos, and were returned to them as soon as Stone Street Studios security had searched the old man. They’d been told to stay Ian’s trailer while the Gods handled their renegade brethren. They didn’t even know where Carson had been taken.

Dean’s mother had called approximately forty-seven seconds after Dean had gotten his mobile back.

So now, Dean was sitting on the couch in Ian’s trailer, trying to talk his mother out of the barbeque she had planned with the only other person who could conspire as deviously as she could … Lee’s mother.

“All right, fine. Yes, I will fly up for a barbeque if it will make you happy, and I will get everyone else to come up. Yes, it’s because I love you, Mum.” Dean admitted defeat. “Mum, I already met Lee’s parents, they’ve been hanging around on set and… yes, Mum. No, Mum. Of course I’ll bring Aidan, Mum. I can’t promise his parents will come down… or Richard’s. Yes, I’ll try. Give my love to Dad, too. I’ll talk to you later.” He finally was able to hang up the phone. “Aid, you are lucky your parents are up in Ireland.”

Aidan was seated next to him on the couch, hands in his lap and quiet, which was scaring Dean. Aidan was only quiet when he was asleep. Dean leaned over and laid his head on Aidan’s shoulder and was in the process of dropping a kiss to the Irishman’s neck, but Aidan scooted away from the Kiwi. “I… I’m going to go get a shower, get the soot out of my hair. We’ve still got to do those interviews.”

“Ian’s bathroom is open,” Richard pointed towards the back of the trailer. “I can call someone to bring you new clothes.” As Aidan wandered in the direction of the bathroom, Richard picked up his mobile to make the call.

Dean made a face. Aidan hadn’t said ten words to him on the drive home, and hadn’t spoken at all since they’d been forced into the trailer. “Our clothes are ruined. I hope that I can get them cleaned before they have to go back to The Almighty Johnsons wardrobe people. Otherwise, they won’t be happy with me."

“They should be happy you’re still alive,” Richard said, giving up on pretending to do the crossword. It wasn’t like Dean believed it, anyway. “We’re all happy that you’re still alive. She could have tried to kill you.”

“That isn’t what she wanted,” Dean muttered. “Rich, she wanted us to JOIN them. Promised us money, work, power, even women and sex.” Richard raised an eyebrow at that. “I guess they didn’t know that we…ah…”

“Are together?”

“Yeah. There’s more, too. I think… I think they think Hephaestus’s powers went to AIDAN.” Dean explained. “You should have seen her, she was all over him, and… she really talked to him like he was a brand-new God.”

Richard frowned. He didn’t know many members of his new family outside of those that had come to New Zealand, there just hadn’t been enough time for everyone to visit him yet. Or for him to visit them. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to meet those that had sided with Hera. Still, this was unusual for them, from what he could understand. They usually employed more… fatal tactics. Not to mention, Aidan had become a target of a totally different type, now. He’d have to talk to Ian about this.

 

****************

 

After showers and a change of clothes, the heirs of the line of Durin did their interview – wearing jeans and T-shirts and followed by Ian's personal security, but at least they did it. Richard put everything he could into the interview, putting what Dean had said to the back of his mind. The publicity was vital for both the movie drawing in Athena, after all. Aidan was strangely quiet, and Dean was more than a little distracted. While Richard and Martin did their dual-interview, Dean suggested they check the clinic for Carson.

Carson was there, now fully conscious and bandaged up, looking much better. Vi was sitting next to him, having taken up residence on a stool. She’d apparently gotten someone to bring in a television and a game system, and they were playing some sort of co-op game. With Batman. Someone paused the game when the actors entered. Oddly enough, Diz and Al were nowhere to be seen.

“Mister hero over here tells me that he saved you two,” Vi set her controller down and crossed her arms, as though she expected them to deny Carson’s claims.

“Well, we sort of all saved each other,” Dean admitted. “We got kidnapped, some crazy woman that… uh… well, she sort of…”

“Manhandled the crap outta me,” Aidan muttered, too low for Carson or Vi to hear. “Bitch.”

“Are you all right?” Vi cocked her head to the side. “You don’t look so good.”

“Not feeling too well after that.” Aidan explained. “You know, the fire, the kidnapping, all that.”

Vi looked… impressed. “You’ve handled it better than others, I think. You’re alive. You Hobbit actors have some crazy fans, apparently. Carson here was telling me about it, that they were promising you ludicrous things?”

“Yeah,” Dean stretched. “She was probably going to lock us up in her basement, or something. She was… completely delusional."

“Ranting on about Gods and Goddess and all sorts of crazy things!” Carson laughed. “She needs to be in a mental ward! You two have the best adventures! You’ll have to tell me the next time you do something, I want to be in on it!”

“And you’re calling the fans crazy,” Vi shook her head. “Seriously, you two are all right, aren’t you? They… didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Nope,” Aidan shoved his hands in his pockets. “We took care of it - Dean kicked her away, Carson tazed the other guy, and I got the jerk who tried to stop us from getting out. She was definitely nutters.”

“Of course she was nutters, she thought she was a Goddess!” Carson laughed. “Hell, she thought Aidan was a God. She had her hands all over him, I could see it from where I was. And when I say all over, I mean ALL OVER.”

Vi frowned at that. “I know Mister Turner isn’t a God… there are no such things as Greek Gods. Still, history tells us a lot about our world. I’m curious, which Goddess did she say she was?”

“Adikia,” Dean answered without thinking.

“Hmph. You’d think if she was going to be loony enough to think she’s a Goddess, she’d at least go after one of the more famous ones.” Vi scowled.

Dean laughed at that, though Aidan just flashed a small smile. After some more pleasantries with Carson, the security guard begged them to leave before Vi’s brothers showed up, saying that the brothers had some sort of anti-Dean-and-Aidan radar. The Irishman and the Kiwi left Carson and Vi to their video game, passing Diz on the way out of the clinic. Poor Carson.

They finally reached Dean’s trailer, the Kiwi unlocking his door and stepping inside. Aidan didn’t follow. “You sure you’re all right?” Dean asked when he realized his Irishman wasn’t right behind him. “Aid?”

“We need to talk,” Aidan said.

Those were four words Dean did NOT want to hear. Still, his Kiwi instincts led the way. “Sure, fine. I’ll grab us a couple of beers.” Aidan gave a short nod and stepped into Dean’s trailer. True to his word, Dean pulled out a couple of Guinness and settled on the couch. Aidan didn’t sit. “What’s on your mind?”

“Look, what happened today, it made me realize something.” Aidan said slowly.

Dean tried not to wince. Damn it. After being promised the world by a gorgeous woman, Dean didn’t quite measure up. He knew that. Aidan always liked women, Dean was the first man he’d ever been with. Or maybe he'd finally had enough, with all the chaos they'd been put through, Aidan had decided he wanted a quiet life... without Dean. “All right, I think I know what’s coming.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were waiting for Athena? I thought we had something going and then… just… as soon as she turns up, you’re going to go after her, is that it? Are we really just wasting time while waiting for Athena?” Aidan demanded.

“Uhm… What?” That was NOT what Dean had expected. Dean sat up straight, nearly dropping his beer.

“You obviously want to have Athena, you talked about it back there! Christ, you had a deal going with that woman, almost! I know we got together ‘cause we went through Hell, but you could’ve at least fucking TOLD me! Instead, it was ‘I want to be with a gorgeous woman, I want to paint’! Nice to know all that now, you sodding bastard!” Aidan shouted. Once the gates were open, he couldn’t stop it. “Look, you want her, you can have her, but you needed to fucking TELL me first! Fuck you!”

Dean… laughed. While Aidan had an infectious laugh, Dean’s was always more subtle. He took a long drink of his beer and shook his head. After all the stress of being kidnapped and molested, Aidan was worried about that? “Aidan, I was ACTING. You know, that thing we do and get paid for? And I never said ‘woman’, now did I? I thought… I thought…” He broke off, laughing.

Aidan’s brows furrowed. “You didn’t… but you SAID…”

“I said I wanted the most beautiful creature in the entire world. For all she knew, maybe I was talking about one of my pets.” Dean laughed.

“You don’t have any pets,” Aidan frowned.

“Pets are something you have to make sure to clean up after, make sure they have food, and take care of them in general. I think you fall into that category.” Dean smirked. “I was talking about YOU, you Irish egg. I love you, I’m sticking with you. Took me long enough to get you, after all.”

“Okay, now I think you’re a bastard.” Aidan crossed his arms, trying not to smile. All the anger and anxiety seemed to wash away.

“Yeah, well, I’m your bastard. As long as you’ll have me. You going to come sit down?” Dean motioned to the couch. Aidan took a seat, finally opening his beer. “You know, I thought you were going to tell me you decided you didn’t like blokes after all and that you were breaking up with me. I mean, she sort of…”

“She made me sick. I like women, but that was… ugh. I don’t like getting fucking molested. Well, by anyone but you.” Aidan admitted. “Sorry, but when you’re getting manhandled by a psycho Goddess who was also just hitting on your boyfriend, it ruins the mood.”

“You know what I was thinking while you were being… touched?” Dean leaned forward. Aidan shook his head. “I was thinking about how much I wanted to break every fucking finger in those hands of hers. Seriously. I know she didn’t go past the trousers, but still… just the thought of it…”

Ah. So Dean knew how he’d felt about the whole ‘I want a Goddess’ thing he’d pulled. Looks like they were even. “So… what are you gonna do about it?” Aidan asked. “Go and break her hands?” He wasn't entirely disinclined to that.

Dean scrunched up his nose. “I don’t like violence. I think… I think I’ll remind you of the difference between her and me… touch you in every place she did. Remind you that you’re mine, and not hers.” He paused. “You are mine, right?”

“Fucking hell,” Aidan muttered, rising. “You better get your arse to that bedroom now. You’d better erase everything she did, every single touch, you hear me?” He snatched up Dean’s hand and just about dragged him towards the bedroom.

Dean followed Aidan obediently. “One more question… were you serious when you said you weren’t into being tied up?”

Aidan laughed as he closed the bedroom door behind them. “I’m better with making the knots…”

 

****************

 

“You must be Vicki!” Mrs. Pace opened her arms to hug Dean’s mother the moment she stepped through the threshold of the O’Gorman household. “It’s so nice to finally meet you face-to-face!”

“Charlotte!” Mrs. O’Gorman smiled, hugging Lee’s mother back.

While Dean and Lee’s mothers greeted each other like old friends, Dean’s father turned to the assembled crowd of actors. Fran had managed to bully every single one of the Dwarves into going, and though Luke had escaped, citing previous commitments, even Orlando and Evangeline had been made to go to Auckland. Fran had even ‘bullied’ Rhea, Jeb’s mother, into coming (much to the actor’s chagrin). “Hello, welcome to our home. We’re excited to have you.” Mr. O’Gorman gave them a warm smile as the actors removed jackets, scarves, and hats. “Dean’s told us so much about you.”

“I hope not too much!” Stephen said from the back of the group. The rest of the cast laughed.

Lance wrapped an arm around his son’s neck. “No worries, he’s too quiet to go into too much detail.”

“You sure you’re talking about our Dean?” Mark called out. “He’s a hellion!”

Lance laughed and motioned them all inside as Vicki merrily latched onto her son and hugged him warmly. Aidan didn’t escape her grasp, either.

“Look at you, Aidan, I think you’ve gotten taller! Or thinner. Aren’t Dwarves supposed to be a little chubby?” Vicki fussed over the Irishman, pulling him close for a hug.

“No, Mum. Peter made him cut out all the junk food.” Dean laughed. “A little exercise took care of the rest.”

“Lots of exercise took care of the rest!” James called out. “Dean made sure he got it, too!” Dean gave him a glare.

Lance blushed, but Vicki just laughed. “We’ll get the grill up and running soon, get some hot food in all of you. Especially you, Mister Vampire. By the way, when am I going to get to meet your parents in person, hm?”

As Aidan tried futilely to escape, Vicki placed a hand on his and Dean’s backs, guiding them towards a sitting area. He gave the other actors a ‘help me’ look as Dean’s mother began to ask some very…embarrassing questions.

Lance just shook his head. “She’s been driving me insane about this barbeque. Might as well follow, she’ll come looking for us if we don’t. So, Ian, Richard, Lee, what have you been up to lately?”

Somehow, they managed to cram everyone into the sitting area, though extra chairs had to be brought in, and Adam, Stephen, and Orlando all wound up sitting on the floor. Introductions were made, Richard, Lee, and Ian did some quick catching up with the O’Gorman’s, and Vicki made sure that the entire cast and the Paces were made to feel at ease. It was obvious that Dean got his easygoing nature from his mother. Mark pulled out his arsenal of mostly embarrassing stories from the set, during which some of the tales both Dean and Richard had to hide their faces.

A quick series camera flashes made Vicki cringe. “Lance, love of my life, if you take one more photograph, I will take that camera away.”

“Mum, it was only the sixth one,” Dean protested.

“It’s been more than that. I’ve counted twenty-five flashes or clicks, between you and your father. Just because I’m not looking doesn’t mean I can’t tell.” Vicki held out her hand. “Dean, Lance, these people are here to relax and be our guests, not to play paparazzi with you two. You’re being obnoxious with the photos.”

“Mum…” Dean tried. Vicki gave him a look. Dean pulled his camera out from under his shirt and gave it an apologetic look before handing it over. Lance did the same with his.

“She knows you, eh, lad?” James laughed.

“You live with an artist, you learn to tell when he’s being sneaky with photos. Dean’s nowhere near as good at is as his father. I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable.” Vicki shot the two men a glare and they tried to look sorry.

“At least he doesn’t take pictures of people going to the toilet!” Ian laughed. “We had one do that to Jimmy, here. After that, I don’t think anything could make us uncomfortable.”

“I agree!” Stephen nodded. There were murmurs of assent from the rest of the cast.

Vicki apparently wasn’t letting her husband off the hook quite so easily. “I think we’re all getting peckish, Lance, would you mind firing up the grill? I’ll go get the plates…” She left them for the kitchen while Lance rose and stretched his back. Vicki returned, trying to balance two platters – steaks and burgers. “I’ve got kebabs, fish, and chicken in there, too.”

Richard took pity on Lance. “I’ll help. Jeb, you’re our griller, want to join us?”

Jeb nodded. “Sounds like fun. I’ve got to get my hat so I don’t freeze, though.”

“Can’t have a barbeque without me!” Mr. Pace declared.

“Dad… you don’t grill….” Lee looked surprised.

“I’m an American male, it’s in our blood.” Mr. Pace put a hand on his son’s shoulder as he passed him.

“He’s going to burn everything…” Lee groaned. His mother tried to hide a smile.

While the grillers took everything outside and began to cook, the ladies of the O’Gorman and Pace families pressed several of the actors into helping prep the rest of the meal – over twenty people was a lot to cook for. Lee had been given desert duty (though he’d protested vehemently about having to re-heat the pies, for some reason. His mother had giggled every time he tried to argue), Mark had volunteered for salad duty, and Adam raided the fridge to find ingredients for a side dish he wanted. Aidan and Stephen were in charge of the chips, and William had put himself in charge of the beans. Even Orlando was pressed into work, as the official ‘get ingredients out of the fridge’ person. Even Ken helped by making lemonade and pouring juice into pitchers to go with the meal. The ladies (along with Evangeline, who they found they adored) worked on the rest of the meal. Dean had been placed in charge of… making sure there was enough utensils.

There were days Dean felt like his mother was just placating him.

The kitchen was full of ‘Oh, sorry’, ‘pass me that’, and other random chaos as they cooked. People bumped into one another, food was spilt, and at least one dish was dropped (after which they banned Peter H. from the kitchen, even though he claimed he’d been trying to help). Vicki was in heaven, relishing in the controlled chaos.

Somewhere along the line, the Dwarves and all the Elves got into a contest of who could eat the most crisps out of the air. Of course, this meant that the crisps had to be thrown. Preferably by someone on the opposite side of the kitchen. Adam was a master at it, but Orlando wasn’t far behind.

By the time the grillers returned from the cold outside, there was not a single crisp in the kitchen that hadn’t been launched into the air. It was obvious that there was not going to be any crisps to go with dinner.

After dinner was served and the kitchen cleaned by the young actors who’d created the mess, they retreated back to the sitting area. Most of the younger ones wanted to play a game of cricket, but it was voted down by everyone who had common sense – one doesn’t play sports right after eating. Not to mention that the Pace family had no idea how to play. Charades were played instead. They learned it was not a good idea to play acting games with a bunch of actors – not because they excelled at it, but because they all acted like fools. Especially Martin.

As the day was drawing to an end, Lance took everyone to his studio to see his latest project (at the request of Ken and William), a gorgeous landscape with a red barn tucked away into the hillside. Mrs. Pace was delighted at the scene.

“Lee, that barn looks just the one on that farm you were looking at!”

Richard blinked. Farm? Lee was looking at buying a farm? Why hadn’t he mentioned that? Richard glanced at his lover, but the American didn’t give anything away.

“You know, a farm is a great place to get away from it all… No worries, fresh air, it’s good for your health.” Ian looked thoughtful. “That reminds me, I wanted to talk to everyone about a… family friend.”

That got everyone quiet.

It was Rhea, Jeb’s mother, who spoke next. “There is a… family friend, a mutual one of mine and Ian’s. He isn’t doing well, and as the best physicians we know can attest, there is nothing that can be done. He has cancer, in his brain. Doctors are giving him six months to two years. The heartbreaking this is… he has a son, a little boy with… special needs. Some of you have even met him.”

“Our friend was an orphan, which means there’s no-one else to take care of the boy, and he doesn’t want his son to wind up in the system. A lawyer that we know will be helping with the financials and the estate, but the boy should be with people he trusts, that can understand him. Our friend wants someone to have guardianship over the boy, eventually leading to adoption, but he wants to let the child get to know his new family first. He’s concerned about a shock to the child, being handed over to strangers when he passes.” Ian explained.

“When you say ‘special needs’, what do you mean?” Richard asked.

With all the other actors there, it was hard to elaborate. Ian decided to go for it. “I mean Isaac Malcolm. I am sure you are aware of his… problems.”

“I remember him on set. He’s a good kid, but… you’re right.” Lee agreed. “I can see him having trouble.”

“The child’s already lost so much due to his… eccentricities, and he has trouble functioning with normal children. He needs somewhere he can be himself, and be safe. I believe you Americans have the saying that ‘it takes a village to raise a child’… what Isaac needs is a village… a tribe he can rely on. If he becomes a ward of the state, it’s doubtful he’d ever be adopted.”

Sneaky bastard. Still, Ian was right. Richard leaned over and whispered to Lee, “What do you think?”

Lee took Richard’s hand and swallowed the lump in his throat. “You know what, Ian… maybe… that farm I’ve been looking at, I think Isaac would do well with fresh air and lots of space? I think… I think we could handle his special needs… Richard?

The Englishman smiled nervously. “We can handle it,” Richard agreed, squeezing Lee’s hand.

Aidan shifted nervously. “So, does this mean I’m getting a little brother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I realise that this chapter is late. I am sorry.
> 
> I realise that Aidan was put through hell in this chapter, poor Aidan. Dean will cheer him up, though.
> 
> Yes, it was always the intent for Richard to wind up dealing with Isaac. Maybe he'll finally lay off the boys (Oh, and Aidan WAS being sarcastic when he asked if he was getting a little brother). Well... mostly, anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> Not long to go!
> 
> As always, questions, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome!


	22. Surrounded by Sharks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ian tells a story, Aidan goes swimming, the lads learn that sarcasm is not a good idea, Orlando is harassed, and Aidan's sweet tooth gets the best of him.

Air New Zealand’s cabin crew was polite and professional, and they had their hands full. Thirteen Dwarves, one Hobbit, three Elves, one bowman, a Wizard, two directors, and Simon Pegg, not to mention a few assistants and security personnel.

Most sane people would’ve run when they’d found out what they were up against.

Ian was fairly certain the current hosts and hostesses had been hand-picked for their patience. It was greatly appreciated.

Most of the Dwarves were grumpy from filming battle scenes. Nine to twelve hours a day, for the past ten days, of running around a set, screaming and holding weapons while dressed like a Dwarf was enough to exhaust even the most exuberant actor. Several Dwarves had nodded off completely. The ones that weren’t asleep were difficult to handle, at best.

Richard had dozed off, head on Lee’s shoulder as the American read a very interesting book. He looked so peaceful – no stress, no worries, just pure bliss. The Head of the Thrones of Olympus was sure he’d only seen his adopted son sleep like that when he was with Lee. It was as though Richard completely forgot everything and let go. The Dwarven King had a window seat, so his Elven counterpart took the aisle, banning all of Richard’s new brothers from talking to them. Richard needed rest. He would start to snore every once in a while, but Lee would grasp his hand and caress it, and the snoring would end, at least temporarily.

Ian went back to his laptop, the in-flight WiFi wasn’t very stable, but at least he could try to get some work done. Adikia couldn’t be handled by the regular legal systems, she’d be able to skip out on any form of justice. Another power transfer was possible, but to have two within a year… it had never been done before, and Ian wasn’t sure what ramifications it would have. It wasn’t like taking a birthday present and giving it to someone else. Hypnos was elderly; it was likely he wouldn’t even go to trial. The ancient solution would be to just kill them both, let them reincarnate, but… he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. He had enough reasons for retribution, but still…

“What’cha thinkin’ about?” Aidan plopped himself in the empty seat next to Ian. “You’re doing that face again, the one you do when you don’t like something.”

Ian glanced over at where Graham was seated – the Scotsman was supposed to be keeping an eye on their heroic duo. Graham was sound asleep. “I’m not thinking about anything. Isn’t Dean going to worry about you?”

“Dean loves planes. He’s out, sleeping like a baby. I can’t sleep on planes.” Aidan explained. “It’s not like I can go far, he knows where to find me if he wakes up.”

The young actor did have a point. Still, Ian really didn’t want him involved in this nasty business. “And you decided to annoy an old man instead? Isn’t Evangeline still awake? You could talk to her.”

“Why break old habits?” Aidan shrugged. “I like annoying you. Eva’s nice, but she’s reading right now. I don’t know what she’ll do to me if I interrupt. I know what you’ll do – you’ll lecture me but you won’t make me go away. You’re nice.”

That brought a laugh. Youth always had its advantages, naivety being one of those. If only Aidan knew what had been going through the old man’s head just moments before. Ian closed his laptop before the lad could see what he had been working on. Aidan and Dean were so innocent, compared to the Gods. They’d never spilt blood, never committed an act of genocide, never harmed mortals in pursuit of their personal gains.

The world Dean and Aidan belonged to – the world all these mortals belonged to – was so different. There was still war; humans would probably never give up their rivalries – fighting in the name of country, religion, pride. But still, sporting events eased tensions and war had fewer fatalities than any previous era. These young lads wouldn’t have to slit throats just to stay alive. The world was evolving – for good or bad, Ian didn’t know. Change was something that was immutable, and though Ian disagreed with some changes, he was grateful for others – particularly the changes that made the world so safe for these young heroes. The world needed that change – and to be reminded of the cost of war.

After all, Tolkien had used Fili and Kili’s deaths to illustrate that cost of war.

“And… there’s the face again.” Aidan mused. “You think too much.”

“You don’t think enough, sometimes.” Ian retaliated.

Aidan laughed. “I don’t think enough a lot! Just ask… well, anybody.” He slid down, slouching in the seat and laid his head on Ian’s shoulder. “Tell me a story.”

Ian chuckled. “Are you so bored that you want a lesson?”

“We have hours and hours left on this flight, Deano’s asleep, and you look stressed out. You always calm down when you go into a history lesson. I can’t remember everything from your Titanmancy story, what about that one?”

The war against Zeus’s own father. That wasn’t the best way to get his mind off the tangent he was on. “How about something else? I believe we have not discussed all of the Labours of Hercules. The story of Atlas and Hercules has several variations, but I’ll tell you the true one.” Ian suggested. “Atlas was forced to keep the heavens and earth separate, not as a punishment, as some sources say, but because he was the only one strong enough. Atlas was always so strong, and I could not find another to complete this difficult task. Hercules had been charged with taking a golden apple from the garden of the Hesperides, Atlas’s daughters – semi-immortal. That was the only place the Apples grew, and only two people knew where the garden actually was – the Old Man of the Sea, and Atlas himself. Not only was there a dragon guarding the Apples, but Hercules knew that Atlas’s daughters would never allow him to take an Apple, so he asked Atlas for his help. In return, my son helped build the Pillars of Hercules, which held the Heavens and Earth separate, freeing Atlas from his task. Most sources say he tricked Atlas, but that is a lie.” Ian glanced back at Aidan.

The lad was sound asleep.

Looks like the plane’s gentle motion had taken yet another victim. Really, it was surprising Aidan had lasted that long, even if he claimed to not be able to sleep on planes. Ian closed his eyes and relaxed. Perhaps the Irishman had the right idea.

 

****************************

 

“Oh, my God!” James pulled off his jumper, glaring at the hot sun outside the terminal. “They’re trying to roast us!”

“Aw… poor Dwarf is a little warm? See, if any of you had actually listened to me, you would’ve dressed more lightly.” Lee laughed as he exited the airport, dragging his suitcase behind him. “I told you – It’s summer in San Diego. Flip flops and t-shirts.”

“Could be worse… you could be on a tropical island in full pirate gear,” Orlando teased.

“Sod off, pointy-ear,” James frowned. They were getting a few stares from passerby’s , either because they recognized some members of the troupe or because of their eclectic taste in clothing. To be fair, they were all dressed in the most unusual fashions – whatever they thought was comfortable on the plane.

“You should have checked the weather,” Ken teased. He’d changed into a loud tropical shirt and a touristy-hat. “It’s supposed to be over a hundred degrees here today.”

“We’re going to melt before we get to the cars,” James frowned. “I’m going to die. Graham, make sure they bury me with full honors befitting my status when I go.”

“You mean a motorbike crate and a crossword book?” Graham joked.

“And coins, don’t forget the coins.” James nodded. “Coins for the boatman.”

If anyone thought that was strange, they didn’t say anything. James was always a little weird, so really, nobody was surprised. The vans that were supposed to take them to their hotel finally arrived, and their troupe clambered in. It was a short drive to the hotels, and though the hotel offered to send up people to help with the bags and get them sorted, most of the actors didn’t bother with it. They’d learned to travel light.

The view from the hotel balcony was spectacular. After settling themselves into their room, Lee and Richard sat outside, having a lunch of sandwiches, biscuits, and sweet tea (which Richard took one sip of and refused to touch again). They weren’t sure where the rest of the actors were, and they’d shooed off the assistants and security. It was nice and quiet, despite the oppressive heat.

“I saw what you were reading on the plane,” Richard glanced over at Lee.

“Murder mystery. Agatha Christie.” Lee took another drink of his sweet tea.

“Besides that,” Richard sighed. “The other book you had tucked away in your carry-on, the one you didn’t think I saw. Ian said you were reading it while I was resting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lee tried to look innocent.

Richard chuckled. “You know those parenting books are full of psycho-babble and other nonsense. They’re no help at all. I’ve raised enough children to know. You give children food, water, love, and discipline. You don’t let them run the family, and you certainly don’t let them get away with everything Aidan and Dean do.”

Lee didn’t bring up the fact that Dean and Aidan got away with everything because Richard and Ian let them. Not to mention the fact that really, they were all actors because their parents had indulged them – if it hadn’t been for parental support, none of them would be where they were. Discipline indeed. “Hades is going to be different,” Lee argued. “Ian said he can turn invisible. Have you ever raised children that were Gods?”

“Three,” Richard laughed. “Centuries ago. One was a river God, one was a forest God, and the last one was a Genius Locus, like me. They’re no different from ordinary children, except they can get into trouble a lot faster. And they argue a great deal more. As for finding an invisible child, I can find anybody in my family at any time – invisible or not. We can handle it, I promise. We won’t even get custody for ages, we’ll just be taking him for one week a month until then. You worry too much. You bought ten acres of farmland for him to play on; you’re reading up on parenting, and you're trying hard - you’re going to be a good parent.”

“We’re going to be all over the globe because of filming, the books said it’s not healthy for a child to move around too much.” Lee protested. “And I’m worried about video games, a lot of things say they’re bad for children. I know you don’t have a gaming system, but my nephews and nieces do. So does Aidan and Dean.”

Richard slid over to Lee’s chair, grasping the American’s hand. “Lee, it’s fine. Stop worrying. You’ll do well as a parent. And I have plenty of practice. Now, I think we’re done soaking up the heat, can we please go back to the air-conditioning before I melt?”

Lee gave Richard’s hand a squeeze. “I suppose you’re right. As soon as Benedict gets here, he’ll make us to go the beach. That reminds me, I need to stop by the gift shop to get some sunscreen for you. You’ll burn. I have to take care of you.” Richard shook his head and dragged his lover back through the door into the suite, taking their plates in the other hand, while Lee continued his train of thought. “I hope that there aren’t too many Hobbit fans here. Do you know how hard it will be to keep them from grabbing your butt? It’s a very yummy butt, and I’m going to have to do it covertly… that’s going to be hard… I tend to be a jealous person.”

“I see. Envy is one of the seven deadly sins… perhaps you should do some penance for that.” Richard smirked and set the plates on a side table, wrapping his arms around Lee and pressing a kiss to his lover's sweaty collarbone.

“Can you two not do that right now? Richard needs to memorize the map of this convention before it starts. He’ll get lost.”

Richard took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then twenty. “Martin, how did you get in here? Why are you in here? You have your own suite.”

“Hm, yes. But it’s much more fun to be in yours.” Martin was sprawled out on the couch, on his stomach, reading a comic book. He pointed at a door on one wall, then another door on the opposite wall. “They’re all connected, Peter made sure to book it that way, so we don’t have to go through the hallway and possibly get harassed. You’re not the only one who can pick locks.” He showed the book to Richard and Lee. “It’s the first comic book with Thor, I thought Ben would get a kick out of it. His car should arrive soon.”

“No privacy,” Richard muttered. Lee laughed. “Get out of here, you annoying God of Medicine. I think there’s table tennis set up downstairs, go defeat Jed in combat.”

“Already did. Twice. Nobody else will play with me.” Martin sounded annoyed. “Aidan says I cheat, and Dean won’t play me because it upsets Aidan. Wanker.”

“So you’re annoying us?” Lee laughed.

“Nothing better to do. My wife and kids haven't arrived yet. I can’t go to the pool, I already got at least a dozen requests for autographs while playing table tennis. I don’t want to think of how it will be at the pool. Tele has nothing good on. Aidan and Dean went downstairs, there was a pool table. They’re not well enough known to get harassed. They need to enjoy their freedom while they can.” Martin explained.

“Martin, go away.” Richard sighed. “Just because we have very little privacy at the studio doesn’t mean we’re not supposed to have it here.”

“You can close the bedroom door,” Martin pointed out with a cheeky smile.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“For someone who was once King of Camelot, you really have no diplomatic skills.” Martin shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if you get rid of me, there are a dozen other Dwarves and a wizard who are going to pop up right when you don’t want them to. I’m just getting you used to it.”

Richard dropped into his Thorin voice. “Kings don’t need to be diplomatic. Go away or I will make you.” Richard threatened.

Just as the Dwarven King moved to force Martin to move, Simon popped his head in through the door that connected Richard’s suite to Martin’s. “Ben’s here! He wants to go to the seaside! What do you say? Sunshine, girls! Oh, you should see the girls.”

Richard and Lee glanced at each other. “Really?” Richard raised an eyebrow at Simon. Surely Simon knew they were....

“Married,” Martin lifted up his hand, showing off the ring. “And so are you.”

“Thank you for reminding me, master Hobbit.” Simon sighed. “Come along, switch to some swim shorts and meet us downstairs. Hurry up!”

No privacy at all.

 

******************

 

“Dean, the water isn’t scary. Look, see, just water!” Aidan laughed, splashing the sea water up at his boyfriend. “You can go in past your knees.”

“I’m fine,” Dean gave Aidan a smile. A very forced smile. “I’ll be fine up here, thank you. You go swimming. If a shark eats you, I’ll have your parents do a proper funeral. I’ll cry, they’ll cry, we’ll all have a good cry.”

“We’re on HOLIDAY. You’re not supposed to be worried about anything! Come on, we’ve only got the beach to ourselves for another hour, enjoy it!” Aidan argued.

“I am. From here. You’re lucky to have gotten me in the water.” Dean insisted.

“Ickle Deano is afraid of sharks!” Simon grinned, wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulders.

“I am NOT afraid of sharks. I find them spectacular and gorgeous things. I’m just not getting in the water with any.” Dean insisted.

Mark rolled his eyes. “The lad’s from an island nation with spectacular swimming and extreme water sports, and he won’t go in the ocean. Bloody hell, you are a study in oxymorons.”

“Hey, don’t call me a moron!” Dean joked. Mark laughed before wading out further and diving into the water.

While Simon, Aidan, Martin, and Mark splashed, shouted, and in general acted like fools, Dean watched them from his place near the shoreline, water just up to his knees. James and Stephen shortly joined them in the water, and Dean could see Jed fussing over Adam at the shoreline, shoving a tube of sunblock at him. Apparently, Jed thought Adam needed more. Poor Adam.

Ian was under a large beach umbrella, obnoxiously dressed in a speedo and enormous hat. That was something Dean didn’t want to remember. The rest of the cast were having fun – Orlando and Evangeline had taken it upon themselves to somehow force Luke to let them bury him. Lee was helping his fellow Elves, while Richard was headed towards the water to join the rest of the Dwarves.

Dean pulled himself back up on the shoreline, sitting just far enough up that the water rolled in and out on him, getting sand everywhere. It was relaxing, just taking the time to enjoy the water. No schedules, no costumes, no worries.

“No swimming out to the sand bar!” Dean heard Peter shout out behind him. “I know you lot, you’ll try it! I’ll have no drowning on my watch, Fran will kill me! There’s riptides out there!”

“We’re on holiday! We’re not listening to you!” Martin called back. He gave Peter the finger, grinning the whole time, then set about trying to dunk Benedict beneath the salty waves. Simon helped. It was clear that they had no intent of trying to swim out that far.

“Don’t like the water?” Ian asked, settling down beside Dean.

“Stomach’s nervous,” Dean explained.

“What could you possibly be nervous about?” Ian glanced at the Kiwi, looking incredulous.

Dean shrugged. “Athena. We’re finally going to get to meet her. It’s like there’s been all this build up, and I don’t believe it’s actually going to happen. I mean, it’s like you’ve worked on a painting for months and months, and then you finally do the last brushstrokes and sign it and… it just doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s a very good analogy. Da Vinci had that problem, with the Mona Lisa. He kept changing it, over and over. Couldn’t let go of it. He thought it never did her justice.” Ian mused. “It’s interesting, you and he. You may not be a mechanical genius, but you have more in common than you’d think. You DO know who the Mona Lisa actually was, don’t you?” Dean shook his head. “Athena. Da Vinci was a friend of hers, he knew who she was. She loved his inventions. They’d stay up all night, trying to figure out how to make a flying machine. He was obsessed with the birds; she was obsessed with the mechanics. A regular Icarus, that one. He was never able to truly finish the Mona Lisa, didn’t want the finality of it. Didn’t want it to end. To run with the Gods forever. Is that what you’re afraid of? For this reality we’ve built to come crashing down?”

Dean drew a little frowny-face in the sand. “I don’t know.”

“Well, if it is, don’t worry about it. We may split up again, we may be all over the globe, but we’ll never forget each other. We’ll all stay in touch. Get together, spend long weekends at each others’ home. We won’t just abandon you. And… if you’re worried about Aidan… I don’t think he’ll leave you after this.”

“Even if he gets picked by Athena?” Dean asked. “You’ve wanted him to marry her since the beginning.”

Ian made a ‘hm’ noise. Dean obviously didn't know how far back 'the beginning' was. “I did, yes. I also wanted Da Vinci to marry her, but he didn’t. There are numerous others. This is more like a dating service than an arranged marriage, you do realize that, don’t you?” He rose, stretching a bit in the sun. Really, Dean had no idea how much he was actually considered family. “You should swim. Enjoy yourself. And I can tell you right now that sharks do not actually like eating people, we’re not very tasty to them.”

Dean gave a half-laugh. “Right, of course. Ian, two things?” The old man looked at him, curious. “One, thanks. And two… you really should not be wearing a Speedo at your age.”

“I am old and I will do as I like,” Ian grinned. “And dress how I like. If I want to wear a pink shirt with little penguins on, then I will wear a pink shirt with little penguins on. Speaking of which, try to get Benedict to say ‘penguins’. He can’t do it.” Ian gave the young actor a wink before heading back to his beach chair and book. Dean bit his lip and decided to give the water a try… it couldn’t be that bad.

Upon reaching his little slice of heaven, Ian realized his set-up had been… altered. Inside his book, a simple note had been left, on a scrap of notebook paper. ‘What name are you going by now? Ian, Gandalf, Magneto, or Zeus? Give my love to your sons… all of them. Oh, and pass these out to the actors. They’re nowhere near as good as Hecate’s, but they should keep everyone relatively safe.’ Sitting on the beach chair was a felt bag. Ian dumped the bag out, to reveal… a set of bracelets, one for each cast member who had come to San Diego, plus Simon and Peter. Each little bracelet had exactly forty-seven glass beads, and a tiny silver branch.

An olive branch, if he wasn’t mistaken.

Ian looked around rapidly, but he couldn’t find who had delivered the gifts. They were supposed to be alone on the beach, to keep photographers out. Their aide had insisted upon it with a local national park, offering a donation from the studio as a thanks. How the hell could someone have just snuck onto the beach and then left without anybody seeing them?

Ian’s thoughts were interrupted by a shout from the water. He turned back just in time to see Dean grab onto Richard, practically climbing the older actor. What the Devil was that boy doing?

“Deano, that was a minnow, not a shark!” Aidan sounded annoyed. “A bloody minnow!”

“That was NOT a minnow, and I swear it bit me!” Dean protested from his perch on Richard’s back. The Englishman was too busy laughing to make Dean get down. “That was a baby shark, I just know it! Bloody murderous shark-infested beach!”

That had gotten Lee’s attention, and the American abandoned his pursuit of burying Luke long enough to storm over to the water’s edge. “Hands off, Dean!” He looked annoyed.

Richard laughed even harder, turning red from embarrassment. Mark and Stephen ran back to their bags for their mobile’s… a picture was worth a thousand words.

Ian glanced down at the beads in his hands. He was fairly certain he was going to need more than a few charms to keep them safe and sane. Stomach issues, indeed. No wonder Dean had never gone to the seaside with Aidan.

Hopefully, Athena hadn’t seen that, wherever she was…

 

*********************

 

Aidan and Dean were having a blast.

It was their first panel, “The Hot Dwarves of the Hobbit”, and they had small room filled to the brim – all sorts of fans that had come just to see them.

They were fairly certain that Fran had talked to the convention and gotten that panel specifically named that in order to get Athena to show up. As it was, the room was full of females hoping to get the first in-person glimpse of the Dwarven Princes. Peter had given them specific instructions that they were to only hint at things in the movies – no spoilers. That really killed what they could talk about, so they’d tried to stick with neutral things. Trips they’d made into town, playing video games together, the fact that Richard couldn’t remember who was Fili and who was Kili without reciting some sort of poem under his breath (and no, they didn’t know what it was), and another little random things.

One little fangirl approached the microphone nervously, giving them doe-eyes. Dean was a sucker for doe-eyes. “So…uhm… when are you two getting married?”

They’d been so careful about any spoilers, and they were getting a little tired of Hobbit fans fishing for information. There weren’t too many people here, and between jet lag and the stress of keeping the movie’s secrets, both Aidan and Dean apparently decided at the same time that a little bit of humour was acceptable.

Dean spoke first. “Y’know, we haven’t actually really set a date, yet.” He glanced at Aidan, as if waiting for an answer.

“I’m thinking summer,” Aidan acknowledged, leaning back in his chair.

Dean thought about that for a moment. “New Zealand summer or Irish summer?”

“I dunno,” Aidan shrugged. “We’re circling it. We’ll get around to it?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “We’re working on it.”

Every fangirl in the room began to talk excitedly, and the lads congratulated themselves on getting a great deal of attention. Surely the women in the room knew they were being sarcastic, right?

After the panel (and a quick snog in a broom cabinet), Aidan and Dean went back to the signing booths. Their characters weren’t nearly as popular as, say, the directors, Bilbo, Thorin, Gandalf, Smaug or the Elves. The princes were tucked away towards the end, with Adam, Jed, and Mark being the only ones who were further away from the chaos of the more ‘accomplished’ actors. It wasn’t fair. Even with the print of Aidan as a vampire and Dean as a god in the background , they hadn’t garnered a great deal of attention.

Dean and Aidan had maybe done a hundred autographs.

Combined.

In four hours.

And most of those had been from women who’d been at the panel they had just done.

“Stupid Elf,” Aidan frowned, lining up a penny he’d found on an elastic he’d nicked. One little penny wouldn’t hurt Orlando, surely. Dean removed the weapon before the conflict between Dwarves and Elves arose once again. “Oh, come on, let me hit him just once! He can’t prove it’s me!”

“Peter’s already lectured me to be careful about bad publicity. I’d rather we didn’t get another lecture tonight. We’ve still got to do that entire cast panel tomorrow, and I don’t want him making digs at us while we’re up there.” Dean explained.

“Sodding wanker. I’d love to be more popular than him.” Aidan griped.

Dean had pulled out his sharpie pens and was busy decorating their tablecloth with random doodles. “No, you wouldn’t. You can still take the underground, he can’t. Just think, if you become too popular, you’ll have paparazzi following you around, taking photos of you in the pub and at the cinema. You should see some of the photoshops those papers can do. They don’t care about truth, they care about selling papers.”

Aidan leaned over and put his head on Dean’s shoulder, then sat back up. “Let’s see what they do with that.”

“You two should know better,” a voice came from nearby. “Grammy’s already told me to have a talk with you two about being a little too close and a little too obvious.” A man walked up to them, confidence in every step. Long hair, muscular, and a winning smile. “You’ve given him a heart attack.”

Dean blinked. “Kevin?”

“I prefer Hercules,” Kevin Sorbo raised an eyebrow at them.

“Getting a bit into the role, aren’t you?” Aidan asked.

“Uhm… Aidan… he really is… uh…” Dean bit his lip. “Ian told me.”

“Seriously? How come he didn’t tell me?” Aidan looked insulted.

Dean tried not to laugh. “You were asleep. Kevin, it’s… amazing to see you again. It’s been years.” Dean rose and gave Kevin a warm hug. At Aidan’s odd look, Dean elaborated. “I played recurring roles on Hercules, and then on Young Hercules, ages ago. He was actually the one that made it easy for me to be able to concentrate on work… he taught me some basic swordfighting as part of a game when I was there. Really helped my nerves.”

“And I hear you’re still using it,” Kevin hugged Dean back. “Rumor has it that my father has you pegged for my big sister, if big brother Peter is right. Though from the looks of it…” He cocked his head a bit. “I’d say that you found someone yourself. Too bad for Athena.”

“Oh, that’s just a bit of fun.” Aidan argued. “We’re just having a laugh.”

Kevin pulled out his mobile and clicked a few different buttons. “Really, so… I shouldn’t be insulted that you haven’t sent me a wedding invitation?” He held the screen up so they could see. There they were, from the panel that morning, talking about when they were getting married.

“Ah, oops?” Dean made a face. “That’s on the internet?”

“Oh, yes. Labeled ‘Hot Dwarves Getting Married?’ If you were trying to get some attention, you succeeded.” Kevin laughed. “Graham says that you’re dead men when he gets a hold of you. He also said something about some photos you did during your shoot this morning, about you hugging and dancing.”

“The dancing was Aidan’s idea.” Dean protested.

“They were adjusting the lights, we got bored!” Aidan argued.

“Oh, you’re explaining that to my brothers, not me. I really don't care, as long as little Dean is happy.” Kevin made a ‘hm’ noise, fiddling with his mobile before putting it away.

“Help?” Dean made a face. “I mean, the whole Athena thing…”

“Ian doesn’t care too much, what will be will be.” Kevin leaned on the table. “It’s too bad, you know. Makes me a little sad, that you won’t wind up with my big sister.”

“Should we be… talking about this? Out loud? Out here?” Aidan looked around nervously.

“Where else would we talk about it? Look, our… other group isn’t exactly stupid. Pete says there’s been multiple attempts on you two, and they already know who I am. I get at least one attempt on my life a year. Gets a little dull. Last time, they tried to set up an assassin to go after me at the gym I own. Idiot thought that rigging some of my equipment would do it. Like I wouldn’t notice.” Kevin laughed.

“That’s bad, when you get bored of assassination attempts,” Dean scowled.

“Try a few thousand years of it,” Kevin didn’t look impressed. “So… not a lot of fans?” He looked around. “And you’ve only got photos of yourself as Fili here… nothing of you as Iolaus. Hate to tell you this, but you were popular as Iolaus, too. I remember hearing about the security measures they had to put in place to keep a pack of women out, back then.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Kevin… can I ask you a question.” The older actor shrugged. “…You didn’t have anything to do with my being cast as Fili, did you?”

Kevin looked down at his bare wrist. “Oh, look at the time. I’ve got my own signing I need to be at. Can’t make the fans wait. You take care, little one.” He gave them a wave and walked off, whistling tunelessly. Dean just shook his head and chuckled. Aidan didn’t look amused in the slightest.

Shortly after Kevin left, the young princes wound up with a few more autographs to do. Some were for collectors who were trying to get everyone’s autograph on a single item. One was obviously reselling the autographs - Dean made a mental note to do a flood of autographs later in the months to offset that. Fans were one thing, moneymakers were another. A trio of young women approached, excited and hyper, probably still on a roll after the panel they did. They got both Aidan and Dean’s autographs, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Just as they turned to leave, the youngest stopped and turned back around.

“I’m sorry, I forgot. A there’s a girl we met just outside the signing rooms, she’s too nervous to come see you two. Says that you’re so hot that you wouldn’t give her the time of day. She asked if we would give these to you. She said the ingredients came from her brother’s garden.” The girl pulled out two pastries, obviously hand-baked, each wrapped in a piece of linen that had little Dwarvish runes on them. “She said they’re apple turnovers.”

“Oh, thanks! I mean, tell her thanks. I’m starving!” Aidan reached out for the treats, brushing the girl’s hand as he did so. The girl beamed, handed them over, and left, talking with her friends about how SHE got to touch Aidan Turner. Aidan smiled.

Something tickled the back of Dean’s mind. That was… strange. Sure, they had a load of cookies and brownies from the female fans trying to garner their attention. A way to a man’s heart was certainly through his stomach, especially when Aidan was concerned. Usually, though, the young women who brought them such treats would nervously hand them over, proud of their work. “Aidan,” Dean reached over and took the turnover from his boyfriend, plucking it from his hand and wrapping it back up in the linen. “Let’s wait on that.”

Aidan gave his boyfriend a glare. “I’m starving! It’s not like we have anyone to impress, the fans aren’t interested in us yet. I think Steven’s gotten more autographs then we have.”

“Eat some of the brownies you got, then. Let’s wait on these. Something doesn’t feel right.” Dean insisted.

“I hate you.”

“Good, you can keep hating me all through tonight, then.” Dean smirked.

“I hope you enjoy sleeping on the couch, then.” Aidan smirked back. Dean frowned – that had backfired…

 

****************************

 

“Look, they have an Ewok! Mr. ‘Gorman, can I have a Ewok?” The child pointed at the toy. “Please please please?”

Dean leaned down to inspect the toy. Clever shopkeeper, putting the toys right at child’s eye level. “Joe, no. You shouldn’t play with the Ewoks. They’re vermin. Here, how about a toy Stormtrooper?” He pulled the toy into the child’s vision. “Stormtroopers are much better than Ewoks.”

“Ewoks beat up the Stormtroopers. Uncle Simon says so. I want a Ewok.” Joe crossed his arms.

“How about a TIE-fighter? See, it goes vroom!” Dean swirled the model around, making ‘spacey’ noises.

“Ewok,” Joe Freeman insisted.

“Y’know, when I told your Dad that I’d walk the shops with you because he couldn’t, I didn’t think you’d be so much like him.” Dean sighed. “All right, an Ewok. Horrible things that they are.”

Dean purchased the toy, which little Joe clung to his chest. He made sure to take Dean’s hand as they left the stall; it was crowded, even this late on the first day of the convention. Without warning, a Darth Vader stepped into their path. “I am here to secure you,” a voice through the mask explained. “Your presence is required. Do not try to resist, it is your destiny.” Joe hid behind Dean, clutching the Kiwi’s pant leg.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Uhm, Simon, I know it’s you.”

There was a pause from Darth Vader. “I know not of who this ‘Simon’ is, but it is a strong name, you should fear the one who bears it. Come with me, and join the dark side.”

“Only if you have biscuits,” Dean frowned. “Joe’s been getting peckish.”

“The phrase is actually ‘Join the Dark Side, we have cookies’.” Darth Vader corrected. “And there probably is. We’re going out to dinner.”

“Uncle Simon is that you?” Joe peeked out from behind Dean.

“Hm? Yes. What is it you want, Jedi youngling?”

“I’m tired, will you carry me?” Joe stretched out one arm, still clutching his Ewok toy to his chest with the other. Simon sighed in his mask, and stopped for a moment. Dean assumed the man was giving him a pleading look behind the mask. Too bad he couldn’t see it.

And so, Darth Vader carried little Joe Freeman through the convention shops and out to the waiting car. Dean took pictures.

Dinner that night was at some sort of Taiwanese place, a huge affair in which not only were all the actors (and the two directors present), but Lee’s parents, Martin’s family, James’s daughters, and Richard’s parents were there. Richard and Lee’s parents had obviously spent most of the day together, in whatever hotel Ian had paid for. Simon, Peter, and Orlando were still in costumes, having wandered the convention floor incognito when they had finished their signings. Masks had been tossed aside, but Peter hadn’t managed to get all his face paint off. He’d know better for next year.

“Dean, Dean, come sit over here!” Mrs. Pace motioned to him when he’d arrived. They’d already kidnapped Aidan, the Irishman sitting next to the Armitage family. The Paces had taken one side of a table, and the Armitages were on the other. Richard and Lee were with their respective parents, and it was obvious that Dean was meant to sit with the Paces. He was never going to forgive Richard for giving Mrs. Pace his parents phone number.

Dean took a seat, glancing around. Multiple conversations were floating around him – Evangeline’s parents had come for a visit, and Adam’s wife had also flown to San Diego. The children were seated together, Joe Freeman and Mary Nesbitt squabbling over the crayons. What Dean wouldn’t give to be sitting with Graham and James right now… at least they looked like they were having fun. “Hello, nice to see you two again.”

Mrs. Pace hugged him lightly. “You two, sweetie. This is Margaret and John Armitage.” She made a sweeping motion with her arm towards them. “Margaret, John, this is the other young man I was talking about.”

“I see…” Mrs. Armitage gave Dean a tight smile. “You’re one of the ones our Richard has been looking after. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Dean nodded.

“I hear our Richard is looking at adopting… you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” John asked.

Aidan cringed, Lee sighed, and Richard rubbed his temples. It seemed as though the Armitages had been seeking information before Dean had even arrived. “Isaac is a good kid. Richard can handle him.” Dean tried to smile.

“From Australia?”

“Mum, we already talked about that and…” Richard sighed. The waitress finally came, thankfully saving the conversation from getting out of hand. While it was obvious that Richard’s parents wanted grandchildren, they were a little bit old fashioned. Between the Pace’s lively behavior and the Armitage’s more reserved habits, it was a long night.

 

***********************

 

“Shh! Be quiet, we don’t know who’s about!” Stephen whispered.

“Not my fault I cracked my knee on the bed,” Dean hissed back. “You just keep watch, please?”

“Right, right.” Stephen turned back towards the doorway. “I can’t believe Ads is missing this…”

Aidan and Dean took the pillow on the bed and fiddled with it, making sure their set-up worked. It took an elastic and a bottle cap to make sure it worked the way they needed it. They tested their workmanship, trying to keep it as quiet as possible. Satisfied, they abandoned the room, closing the bedroom door behind them. They retreated to Stephen’s room, it was closest to the one they’d just… changed some of the decorations in.

Aidan and Dean were just starting a game of poker with Graham and Stephen when they heard the fruits of their labours. A loud blast of an air horn was heard throughout the hotel, followed by Orlando stomping out of his bed and through the open doors that linked all their suites. He found the poker game, and stormed over to them. “Did you two do this?” He held up an air horn, complete with bottle cap and elastic rig.

The terrible two tried to look surprised. “Dean, I think someone’s trying to frame us. Why else would they use an air horn that is just like the one we used to greet our dear Elvish friend?” Aidan’s eyes went wide into that ‘I’m so innocent’ look he somehow managed.

“I think you’re right,” Dean nodded. “After all, we would never do such a thing to a fellow actor, we’re far too mature.”

“I know you two did it,” Orlando shifted from foot to foot in his dinosaur pyjamas, clearly annoyed.

“They were just with me,” Stephen protested. “I think I’d know if they did something like that. Nice outfit.”

“My son likes it,” Orlando frowned. He gave them all a glare and stormed off, probably to ask Lee if he’d done it.

Graham laughed as soon as the Elf was gone. “That was extremely childish and I am very proud of you. That almost makes up for your stupidity earlier. Poor little Elf.” He shuffled the cards and dealt.

“He deserved it,” Aidan muttered.

 

****************************

 

“Day one of the convention is gone, and still no Athena. I don’ wanna get up.” Aidan covered his head with his blanket and a muffled “Leave me alone” was heard from underneath the blankets.

“Come on, you two. It’s not that bad. Another fun-filled day of talking about nothing and then having everyone in the universe compliment you. Then dinner, and a movie – Peter figured out how to hook up Stephen’s game system so we can watch DVD’s – and then sleep.” Lee shoved at the lumps in the bed.

Dean, who had been under the blanket to begin with, grunted. “Tired. Go ‘way.”

“Look, if I don’t get you up, Ian’s going to send Richard, Kevin, and Graham after you.” Lee sighed. “I volunteered for this mission, at least make it worth my time.”

That got them awake. Dean nearly fell out of the bed on his side, while Aidan actually did fall out of the bed on the opposite. “Shit, you DO know Kevin is a sadist when it comes to waking people up? Last time I remember falling asleep on a set, he stuck an ice pack down my shirt.”

“That why you never sleep on sets?” Aidan asked, tugging a (probably) clean pair of jeans on. He was glad that he and Dean had decided to wear clothes the night before.

“Oh, yes.” Dean acknowledged, pulling a shirt from his suitcase.

“Come on, you two. Get dressed faster. You two have already caused enough trouble in your first day, today you’re doing repair work.”

“For what?”

“Yeah, uhm, Kevin told me what you two did yesterday. There’s a reason why Richard and I try to be so careful.” Lee sighed. “You realize that that can backfire, right? It could destroy your careers. Fans don’t always understand sarcasm. Come on, we need to get moving. One of the aides says that you’re just about late for a photo-shoot. Just behave yourselves today and you should be golden.”

Photo-ops went quickly, though Aidan and Dean though it was amusing to kiss a few fans on the cheek, and a few hours later all the actors were in a conference room, gearing up for a panel-every Dwarf and Elf was supposed to be talking. Benedict was bouncing off the walls, either due to excitement or the four cups of tea he’d had. Dragons should not have tea. Stephen was merrily aggravating Ken, intentionally riling the old man up for the panel. Ken was more entertaining when annoyed. Adam was nervously fiddling with his hands, unsure if he should keep them in his pockets because he kept toying with them. His wife was going to be in the audience. Martin was taking a nap; apparently his little girl had kept him up late.

It was surreal, like going back to those first days on set. Dean wasn’t sure if he even belonged here, with all the fame spread around him. This convention had Tom Hiddleston hosting an event. Tom Hiddleston! Aidan looked nervous, but he was trying to hide it.

“You two all right?” Richard asked, looking concerned. It may have been his first major convention, but he certainly was having no issues fitting in. “Dean, you look pale.”

“Fine, I’m fine. A little hungry.” Dean admitted.

“I have those turnovers, if you want.” Aidan located the tin box he’d stashed all of his treats in – yet another gift from a fan. He’d shoved most of his gifts into the pack Dean preferred to use for rambling. “See, here.”

Dean remembered those turnovers. They looked… absolutely delicious. Especially now. When was the last time he’d eaten? He’d grabbed some American fast food – Lee insisted that Arby’s was good, but Dean wasn’t too sure about that. The late breakfast/early lunch hadn’t sat well with him. That treat looked very good, though… What were his earlier misgivings about those turnovers? He couldn’t remember. He took a piece of the turnover Aidan had proffered – absolutely delicious. He was certain that he’d never had a turnover as good as this one. Aidan apparently agreed, closing his eyes as he bit down on his tidbit.

“They can’t be that good,” Richard looked annoyed. Lee popped out of nowhere behind him and cheerfully stole a piece of the turnover. “Hey, you, Elf, stay away from my nephews.”

“Mmmmm. King Under the Mountain… this is divine. Here, have some.” Lee took a piece and handed it out to Richard, despite Aidan trying to slap his hands away.

Richard took the offered piece. He couldn’t keep it in his mouth for half a second before he spat it back out. “That was disgusting! Lee, this is terrible, how can you even eat that? It tastes like… I don’t even know.” He grabbed a water bottle from the table and drank it. All of it. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It… wasn’t meant to be. Rich, this is really, really good. Are you sure that you're feeling all right?” Dean asked.

“I’m fine… that’s not.” Richard shook his head, still trying to rid his memory of the taste. “James, can you come here and check this out?”

“Are they poisoned, or something?” Aidan looked worried. He put the treat on the table and stared at it, as though it would tell him all its secrets by just sitting on the table. “James can tell that, right?”

“What’s the problem?” James asked as he rounded the table. Richard pointed to the apple treat. The God of Mortality and Crafting’s eyes went wide. “Holy mother of Jesus.” He crossed himself. He actually crossed himself. What kind of normal Greek God DOES that?

“Poisoned?” Richard asked. “Thought so.”

“No… not poisoned.” James whispered. He took a piece, tasted it, then spit it back out. “Quite the opposite. Richard, my boy, where did you GET that? HOW did you get that? That’s not…” He snagged a chair and sat down. “I haven’t… I can’t. By all the Gods that walk this Earth, I thought I’d never see that again…”

“It’s an apple turnover,” Aidan supplied. “Just food. Unless it was made by the Goddess of Baking, or something.”

“Hestia didn’t make that, no. But a God did. Or Goddess. Probably a God. He was never good at baking, he had to have help with this.” James whispered.

“If it’s not poisoned, I’m starving and I’m going to eat it.” Aidan snatched the turnover back and had taken a bite before James could stop him. “See, not dying.”

“No… not dying. Lad, I really wish you hadn’t done that.” James groaned.

“What is the problem with the pastry? Hm? Not poisoned, so what it is it?” Aidan demanded. Dean calmly took the turnover away from him as he flung his hands this way and that. Best to not have apple turnover all over the floor. “We all had a bite, we’re all fine.”

“Bloody hell... all of you? Listen, I can see death on poisoned things. I can also see life. That turnover wasn’t made with a normal apple. I’d say that it was a very, VERY special apple, the type of which I haven’t seen in a thousand years. Only two people knew where those apples grew. My son Atlas was one of them.” James scowled. “That was made with a Golden Apple.”

Dean’s felt his eyes widen. That couldn’t be good.

 

************************

 

The convention stopped for no-one, and despite their recent brush with the mythological, Aidan, Dean, and Lee had to take the stage with the rest of the cast. The session was a whirlwind, and Aidan and Dean were mostly quiet. They had other things to worry about. Everyone teased Jed about stealing coins from the set, and Richard insulted Lee in Khuzdul… and from the look on Lee’s face, Richard was probably going to regret that tonight. Or perhaps have to pay a price for it… which wasn’t something the lads wanted to think about… it was like… like knowing your PARENTS had given each other ‘the look’ before finding an excuse to leave the room.

Disturbing.

They opened it up to a few questions from the audience, and though the princes had to explain their joke (blasted fangirls), the questions were fairly general – ‘What was it like, working with Peter Jackson?’ and ‘How much green screen was used?’

The last question was a doozy.

She’d barely gotten up to the microphone in enough time to ask, and she nervously shifted back and forth as she asked her question. “This is a question… for everyone… If you were a Greek God, who would you be?”

Dean’s head snapped up at that, focusing on the fan. There, in the walkway, was a woman dressed in purple and blue, holding a black book satchel with a red embroidered dragon on it.

He’d seen the bag , before the dragon had been completed.

He’d seen the woman before.

“Vi? Do you brothers even know you’re here?” Dean squeaked into his microphone.

“I would be Horus!” Stephen declared, holding his fists up.

The Gods of the cast were too shocked to correct the pantheon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, several family members have come to visit for the convention, and though the actors will be trying to spend time with their families, they will also have to work at the convention and deal with God stuff.
> 
> So... now we have a couple issues - first all, which kind of Golden Apple did they lads ingest? There were several kinds.... Also, Vi is now in San Diego... :)
> 
> And now, I need some input. My editor and I are a bit at odds - she has one idea to take care of Adikia and Hypnos, I have another. So, opinions are requested. Should there be a 'power transfer', or no?
> 
>  
> 
> Questions, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome.


	23. What Was Lost Is Now Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which Vi vanishes, Martin spends time with his wife, autographs are given, and Diz and Al finally meet their parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize, the first version I uploaded had a few errors - I uploaded the wrong bloody save file. Most errors have been fixed.

Ian was certain he was doing a fish impression.

A very good fish impression.

He stared, mouth opening and closing, at Vi as she waited for an answer. Stephen cheerfully declared himself Horus (did he not know the difference between the Greek and Egyptian pantheons?), and the on-set assistant seemed to take that at face value. Since nobody else was answering, she turned and headed towards the ballroom doors, either out of embarrassment or to escape his wrath, Ian wasn’t sure which.

Simon! Simon was in the audience, dressed as some sort of character Ian had never heard of. It had a mask, that’s all he knew. As soon as Vi headed towards the ballroom doors, Simon was up and following, trying to catch her before she hit the crowd and…

And was gone.

Simon just wasn’t fast enough. He returned back to the ballroom, shaking his costumed head. Damn it all to Hades and back! Ian reminded himself to close his mouth. He had a reputation to keep up. Not to mention that he was sure Aphrodite had a spy or two in the audience… he really didn’t want it getting back to her that the Head of the Thrones of Olympus was doing guppy impressions in front of thousands of people.

“Well, that was a very interesting question!” Peter managed to say. “Very unusual.Threw us all for a loop, except Bombur here! Then again, you can’t throw Bombur, anyway! I do want to thank everyone for having us here today, I believe there will be another panel on Sunday, and we will all be there!”

Somebody cut the main stage lights, and the actors quickly vacated their seats, talking amicably. As soon as they were off the stage, James grabbed Ian. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Yes, I know. Get Richard, see if he can find that aid, what was her name again?”

“Dean said it was Vi,” James sounded distracted. “She’s not the only problem. The lads got a hold of something they shouldn’t. I think it was a Golden Apple.”

Ian seriously wondered if he could abdicate, go to the Bahamas, and drink margaritas for the rest of this life.

 

************************************

 

Graham had wrangled all three of those that had partaken of the Golden Turnover (as they were calling it), finally getting them to sit on the sofa in Martin’s hotel suite. Doors had been closed and locked, and the only Gods missing from this meeting were Richard, Simon and Kevin, who were searching for Vi by using Richard’s bloodhound ability. It was apparently rough going, Richard hadn’t spent much time with Vi, so finding her was much harder than finding Aidan or Dean.

“Open your mouth,” Martin insisted, frowning at Dean. Dean complied, trying not to fidget. “Now stick out your tongue…” Dean obeyed.

“Does that help with figuring out this Apple thing?” Lee asked.

“Nope, but it’s funny to see,” Martin grinned. Dean shut his mouth and glared. “Look, I don’t know what you’re expecting of me, this isn’t my area of expertise. You ate an Apple, and it has consequences. That’s all I know.”

“What KIND of Apple?” Aidan sighed. “Ian says that there’s a bunch.”

“Actually, I think the term would be barrel.” Martin looked thoughtful. “James can tell the stories better than I can. The Apples were guarded by his granddaughters.”

James gave Martin a glare and stood up from his seat, pacing the room. “There were…are… lots of types of Golden Apples. Golden Apples of Discord, Golden Apples of Intelligence, Golden Apples of Beauty, you name it, that garden could grow it. Granted, a Golden Apple takes a very long time to grow. Centuries. They’re rare things.” James explained. “The trees sort of… absorb magic from the world and put it into the apples. I think. Maybe. Come to think of it, Atlas never really DID explain that to me. It was his bloody garden, a gift from a Nymph who fancied him.”

“We don’t need a lesson, we need answers.” Dean frowned. As it was, they had no idea how long the rest of the actors would leave them alone… the longer they spent on this; the more likely that someone was going to come looking. “What kind was it?”

“It’s impossible to tell now that the Apple’s been eaten,” James sighed. “If you idiots hadn’t eaten both turnovers, I MIGHT have had a chance at telling. But no, just HAD to eat all of them, didn’t you? Bloody morons. Who knows if the magic will even WORK, the Apple was cooked and split between all three of you.”

“We were hungry!” Aidan protested. “It was food, it was a sweet snack, I can’t resist those! I didn’t think we could make it any worse!”

“Does the amount we eat change the way it will work?” Lee asked. He’d eaten the least, just a small taste. It had been Aidan and Dean that finished off the turnovers.

“I don’t know. We’ve never split one up for fear of wasting it.” James sighed. “Whoever did this was… taking a massive risk.”

“And knows how to cook,” Aidan agreed.

“Which leads me to think that it was an Apple of Immortality in that pastry.” Graham said from his spot, leaning on the wall.

“How’d you reckon that?” Aidan asked. He poked his belly… he didn’t FEEL any different.

Ian coughed. “Well, Immortality Golden Apples only taste good to those that are not immortal. Richard couldn’t bear to take even a taste, it was so disgusting to him. The rest of you thought it was delicious.”

“You’re saying that…. Because we ate the Apple, we became Gods?” Dean asked, paling a bit. How was he going to explain THAT to his parents?

“No, no, no.” James hung his head. “You’ve got it wrong… immortality doesn’t make you a bloody God. Power AND immortality does. There are plenty of mortals that became immortal, but never became a God. An Apple would basically just set you up for reincarnations for a few dozen extra lives. Hercules ate one, but he had powers first, that’s what made him a God, the combination of both. The three of you haven’t got any powers…Thank Zeus.”

“We’re going to be reincarnated?” Lee asked. That didn’t sound too bad. Richard wouldn't loose him after just one life...

“Maybe. Right now, the magic is being chaotic and I can’t get a fix on it.” James sighed. “It’s TRYING, I can see that – God of Mortality, thank you – but it isn’t stable. I have no idea what the hell it’s doing. I AM going to strangle whoever did this stunt, though.”

“Not Aphrodite?” Dean asked.

“Definitely not,” Ian said from his spot in the corner. “She wouldn’t do that. First of all, she would have no idea where that garden was. Secondly, it’s not in her best interest. Why waste a Golden Apple – especially an Immortality Apple – on someone she has no connections to? That makes no sense. Aphrodite may not be the cleverest Goddess, but she is certainly not the stupidest.”

“Who knew where the Garden was?” Aidan asked as he lifted Dean’s shirt and poked his boyfriend’s stomach. Dean didn’t feel any different, either. No magic there. “You said it was the Old Man of the Sea and Atlas, right? Can’t you just ask them?”

“The Old Man of the Sea faded centuries ago… too many Sea Gods were floating around from too many different pantheons. The magic wasn’t strong enough, split too many directions. Atlas would be the one to ask.” Peter shrugged.

“Then ask him,” Aidan insisted.

“Wish we could. I’d like to see my little brother again.” Graham frowned. “He went missing over a thousand years ago. He could have faded, for all we know. We've 'lost' around forty or fifty Gods total, Hell, at least two dozen Gods vanished during the Plagues. Crusades really didn’t help, either.”

“Let me see if I understand this… Golden Apples, which ONLY grow in a certain place… the location of which is ONLY known by a missing God… have been given to us to eat, just a random gift, and none of you think this is strange?” Lee looked annoyed as he checked his stomach.

“Oh, no, we think it’s strange. We’re just good at faking it.” Martin nodded.

“So, this couldn’t have been Athena?” Dean asked.

“She didn’t know where the Apples were, so no. Could you imagine, my sister with access to Golden Apples of Immortality? She’d give them to her… favourite… Heroes…” Martin’s eyes went wide as he spoke. “Crap. Dad?”

Ian took a deep breath. There was a reason why his daughter –and most of the other Gods, too – had never been told where that garden was, and Martin had hit the nail on the head. “She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. It would be a mess, at the very least.”

“You lads really put yourself into a right mess,” Mark sighed.

“Hey, that’s not fair. We didn’t know.” Dean protested.

Graham was about to lecture the young heroes about not eating things that they didn’t know the origin of (hadn’t they learned with the poisoned pizza?) when Martin’s door burst open, nearly coming off the hinges. Hadn’t they locked it?

Richard stepped in, not looking amused. “Kevin, you’re not allowed to open doors anymore.” He glared at the door. “You almost killed it.”

“Not my fault. I’m excited.” Kevin waved Richard off, tossing the keycard to Martin’s room aside. He’d lifted it from Simon while they’d been running about the hotel.

“Good news, I take it?” Ian asked.

“We know where Vi is,” Simon explained, closing the door behind him. “Evangeline booked a room for her parents, but she also booked one for her make-up artist, who she brought with. Turns out Vi is his sister, she’s staying in the same room.”

“We knocked, but nobody opened it. Evangeline’s parents eventually came out from next door and asked us to stop.” Richard explained. “The girl is in there, though.”

“They wouldn’t let me break the door down,” Kevin mock-scowled at Simon and Richard. “Do I have to keep him as a brother, he’s too… practical.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” Dean muttered to himself. “Sorry, with all the chaos of the Apples, I forgot – Vi has two brothers. They both came with. Diz is Eva’s make-up artist, Al is part of our security team. We’ve hung out together, played video games. Well, Diz and Al hate us, but Eva smoothed it over.”

“What sort of a name is ‘Diz’?” Peter shook his head.

 

**********************************

 

Stephen poked his head into Aidan and Dean’s room though the open doors that connected their suites. “Hey, found out about this bar not far from here. Wanna come?”

Dean was lounging on the sofa, staring off into space. Aidan’s head was cradled in the Kiwi’s lap, and Dean had been running his fingers through his Irishman’s hair as the younger man slept. “Can’t. Busy. Thought we were going to watch a film in your room.”

Stephen nodded. “Yes, but I want to get blasted first. Come on, let’s go do something! I called ahead, they have Guinness. It’ll make your loverboy happy.” Stephen grinned.

“So does sleep,” Dean gave his friend a wry smile. “It’s been a really rough day, can we pass on it? Maybe tomorrow?”

Stephen let out a dramatic sigh. “First Graham passing on free beer, now you two. What’s going on? Is there a virus going ‘round? Were you all changed out with pod people?”

“Aidan and I caught a bout of… Food poisoning." Dean explained. "Then the panel we had today was… odd. It’s just been a bad day in general.”

“Between everyone having family here and you being sick, I’ve got nobody to go drinking with.” Stephen sulked. “Might as well not go.”

“We can watch the film and you can order from room service, drink up here. I’ll pay for it.” Dean suggested.

Stephen pretended to consider it. “That… might possibly be acceptable.” He grinned and dashed off to retrieve his game system.

Ten minutes later, they had a film playing on Dean’s television, with several beers lined up on a coffee table. The movie was older, but there was a reason why Stephen had wanted to watch it with everyone.”I think we’re a little too old for the animated version of the Hobbit.” Dean laughed as the animated Dwarves sang their ‘cleaning up’ song.

“Hey, could be worse. We could have watched it while filming,” Stephen laughed. “The only issue I have is I can’t tell half the Dwarves from one another. I mean, Fili and Kili are easy, and so is Bombur, but the rest… I’m not even sure which one is Thorin.” He tilted his head sideways.

“At least Peter didn’t try to make our Kili blonde. Could you imagine Aidan with blonde hair?” Dean subconsciously reached down and ran his hands through Aidan’s curls again. “That would be a disaster.”

“The fangirls wouldn’t have been able to tell you two apart, if you were both blonde.” Stephen took a sip from his beer. “They have enough trouble as it is, I think.”

“Meh, they’ll sort it out once the movie comes out.” Dean drank from his own beer.

Two hours later, Richard slipped into his room. Dinner with his and Lee’s parents had been… well, to be perfectly honest, hell. The two families were so different – the Paces were open and easygoing, the Armitages were traditional but polite. Not to mention that his parents had brought up the fact that they lived on entirely different continents, and with filming schedules, Richard and Lee wouldn't be able to spend lots of time together. Bloody parents.

“Sleep?” Lee asked, shutting the door behind them and wrapping his arms around Richard’s waist. The Englishman leaned his head back, relishing in Lee’s warmth. The God hadn’t had a lover who was taller than him in… several lifetimes.

“Mmmm… better check on the boys, first. After that whole Apple thing, I want to make sure they’re not dead.” Richard turned and wrapped his arms around Lee, pressing lips to Lee’s neck. “Then I want to get into that bed and sleep for three days, preferably with you next to me.”

“I ate some of that Apple, too, you know.” Lee sounded annoyed. “I’m not dead.”

Richard laughed. A slightly jealous Lee was even more sexy than normal Lee, and that was saying something. “Tell you what, let me look in on them, and then I will thoroughly inspect every inch of you to make sure that you’re fine. Good enough?”

“Oh, yes.” Lee grinned. They disengaged, Lee turning off their mobiles (after the interrogation session from Richard’s parents, the American really did not want them calling) and Richard heading to the suite next door. Richard returned a moment later, grinning like a fool. “Come see.” He motioned for Lee to follow.

The Elven King poked his head into the Dwarven Princes room, then chuckled. The couch and every chair was taken, and there was singing coming from the dimmed room. “Chip the glasses, crack the plates, that’s what Bilbo Baggins hates. That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates, so carefully, carefully with the plates.” The television was still playing, though nobody was watching it. Aidan was laying on the couch, head in Dean’s lap and feet resting on Stephen’s. James’s elder daughter was curled up in a chair, holding what looked to be Martin’s son. James had taken up another chair, holding his little Mary and Martin’s tiny daughter. Even Evangeline, Luke, and Orlando were there, having taken spare chairs from another suite and moved them. Several beers littered the table, but more of them were full and sealed than empty.

Not a single soul was awake, even as the film cheerfully played on. It had to be on its second loop.

“Don’t wake them,” a voice whispered in Richard’s ear. He turned to see Martin standing there, his wife not far behind him. “They’re so… precious like that.”

Lee chuckled and shook his head while Richard headed to the lads’ bedroom, retrieved a blanket, and settled it over the boys, making sure Aidan could breathe while Dean was still warm. Orlando shifted, apparently dealing with the terrible two had made him a light sleeper lately, but didn’t wake.

"They’re all going to be sore tomorrow,” Lee whispered to Martin. "You sure you don’t want your kids in bed?”

“They can have a camp-out,” Martin’s wife smiled. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had my husband to myself? Jimmy’s a good sitter, he’s watched them before.” She located a spare blanket (from Richard’s closet, no less. Nosy little thing) and draped it over James and the two little girls. She took another spare from Aidan and Dean’s closet and put it over Peggy and Joe. “Sleep tight, little ones.” She whispered, barely being heard over the television, as she kissed each of her children on the forehead. They didn’t even stir.

After making sure everyone was tucked in and warm (Lee even made sure Evangeline and Orlando were fine… he was a good King, after all… even if his ‘son’ was older than him), the Freemans, Lee, and Richard retreated to the bedrooms. Martin and his wife were obviously ecstatic to have some alone-time, and Richad had made a promise to Lee, after all.

 

*************************

 

The next morning was the usual chaos, especially since a good portion of the cast hadn’t slept properly. James had eventually taken the children and put them to bed, but two Elves and three Dwarves hadn’t bothered, and were suffering the consequences.

Breakfasts had been eaten, though Aidan’s refusal to wake up had barely left him enough time to shower and shave, let alone eat something hot. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the granola bars Dean had packed, but granola was… granola. It didn’t even have sugar on it. He munched it down dutifully while he, Dean, and James rode the lift down. His Dean loved him and tried to take care of him… even if that meant he had to eat healthy once in a while.

“Stop scowling,” James reminded him. “You need to look dashing and handsome.” Dean hid a smile.

“I am dashing and handsome,” Aidan argued. “And I am not scowling.”

The doors opened, and the Dwarves headed out to their waiting van. Someone was already waiting patiently inside the van, reading a book. “Not you two again.”

“Good morning, Al. Any death threats for us today?” Dean asked cheerfully.

“From me or from anybody else?” Al asked, putting a clean embroidered handkerchief inside the book as a marker.

“Both,” Dean shrugged.

“Nothing from anyone else, and the usual threat from me stands.” Al didn’t appear too interested. “So I’m stuck with you two today? Knew I should have gotten up earlier. I could have done the shift with Miss Lily.”

As the van was started by the driver and they went on their way, James had an idea. “Hey, Al, we were talking yesterday, they said you had a sister… Vi?” James asked. “She’s cute.”

Al gave him a horrified look. “You… no. Just no. Stay away from her.” He paused. “Wait, how did you know what she looks like?”

“She was at one of the panels. Asked the strangest question. Maybe you know something about it.” James grinned. “Does she like researching the Greek Gods, or something?”

Al snorted. “She researches everything. Should have seen her go off about the physical impossibility of zombies. She actually bothered to create a chart to figure out how long a zombie would be a viable threat. She factored in rigor mortis, decomposition, bug populations, the works. All this because she got to meet that motorcycle guy from the Walking Dead. I thought she was going to be up all night.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Dean pointed out, smiling.

“She knows a lot about the Greeks, but so what? You can buy a copy of the Odyssey for five bucks, and she reads everything she can get her hands on.” Al didn’t look interested. “Why are you asking?”

“She played a ‘what if’ on us, an odd one. Asked us what Greek Gods we’d like to be.” James tried to look thoughtful.

“Yeah, that was weird.” Aidan agreed.

Al paled a bit, but otherwise didn’t drop his façade. “She does random things like that. Don’t read too much into it.”

That wasn’t the reaction they were expecting. Then again, none of the three Dwarves were sure what they were actually expecting. Al either didn’t care or didn’t know anything. Then again, they weren’t sure Vi knew anything neither. It could have just been a random question, after all. Or perhaps she’d heard them talking about it, once? They reached the convention without further incident and headed to the signing area, Al carefully scanning the room for possible threats.

At Peter’s request, the giant stood behind Aidan and Dean as they signed, pretending to be bored. James, seated further away, noticed that whenever someone made a jumpy motion at the lads, Al twitched. Apparently, whatever issue he had with them wasn’t getting in the way of his professionalism. Good for him. Nothing seemed to rattle the giant.

During a lull in autographs, Al finally got bored enough to cave and talk to them. “Why am I babysitting you two?”

“Because we are unlucky,” Dean answered as he sketched on a pad of paper.

“We’ve had a couple assassination attempts,” Aidan elaborated. “Worst one was the car accident, I picked up a couple scars from it.” He rolled up a sleeve and showed off a scarred bicep. “See?”

“You think that’s something?” Dean pulled up part of his cargo shorts to show off his own scar, across one thigh. “I got that even before the accident.”

Al snorted. He pulled down his collar slightly, letting the two see a scar. “I’ve been shot before, took a bullet for that little sister of mine your friend is so interested in.”

“Wow… that’s actually… sort of cool.” Aidan muttered, staring at the scar. “Did it hurt?”

“I got shot, what do you think?” Al rolled his eyes at the Irishman and replaced the collar to keep the scar better hidden. “Of course it hurt. Almost died.”

“That has to be a brilliant story,” Dean sounded slightly in awe of the tall security person who had been charged with keeping them alive.

“Not really,” Al shrugged.

“You know, you’re actually not so bad when you’re not threatening to kill us.” Aidan noted.

“Thank you. You’re not so bad when you’re not hitting on my sister.” Al gave the Irishman a nod.

“Why do you and Diz think we’re after your sister?” Dean sighed. “It’s like you’re fixated on it. I mean, we’re not after her. We… uh… we each have someone. Really. Why are you worried about us getting too close to Vi?”

Al bit his lip and looked around. “I’d rather not talk about it. It’s a family thing, goes back… a very long time. Let’s just say that it’s a tradition. A very important one. It wasn’t my job, to begin with, but we’re all she has right now, so we do what we can.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, said “So Vi asked you which Gods you would be… did you answer her? Which ones would you be?"

Dean chewed on the end of his sketching pencil. “I don’t think we’d want to be Gods. But I could see James as Iapetus, you know he was the God of Crafting, father of Prometheus.”

“Why does everyone remember Prometheus, that’s just not fair. All he did was play with clay and spoil humanity rotten. Not like he held up the freaking sky. No… they all remember the younger brother.” Al muttered. “Bastard.”

“You don’t like Prometheus?” Aidan squawked. He lowered his voice when Mark, at the table next to them, glared at him. “Prometheus is awesome.”

“What did you say?” Al asked.

“Prometheus was one of the coolest of the Gods,” Aidan elaborated “Why?”

“Because you said ‘is’, not ‘was’ the first time around.” Al frowned.

Oooops. “Ah, slip of the tongue?” Aidan put on his puppy face. Al didn’t look like he was buying it.

 

***************

 

The day came and went, and though the Dwarven Princes still didn’t have the popularity that their Elven counterpart did, they did find it amusing that Orlando kept having to stretch his back due to his sleeping location last night. Take that, Elf!

Al didn’t bring up the Prometheus slip-up again, which the lads were grateful for. Neither one could come up with a decent explanation, and they both knew it. Surprisingly, Al seemed to relax around them after a while – either he believed they really weren’t after his sister Vi (unlikely), or he figured he couldn’t guard people he hated (more likely). The tall security guard apparently enjoyed doing comic voices, and he and Dean had a contest to see who could do a better ‘Gollum’ voice – Dean won, but since Aidan was the judge, it probably didn’t count.

Aidan and Dean, along with Evangeline and Luke, went out to eat, somehow managing to elude Al to do so. They located a little diner that boasted food that looked terribly unhealthy. Benedict came along, saying that Martin didn’t want to deal with him and he didn’t know anybody else there. The Norse God of Literature started to quote Winston Churchill on the importance of solidarity ('We few, we happy few, we band of brothers'...), and the lads quickly agreed to let him come with. Really, they would've said 'yes' without Bragi being... well... Bragi.

It was late when they got back to their rooms, and a very upset assistant was camped outside of Evangeline’s door.

“Vi, what are you doing?” Evangeline looked surprised to see her.

“There’s been a bit of a change to the photo-op line-up, you’re going to have to head directly there when you wake tomorrow.” The assistant explained. “I’ve got a changed itinerary for you, Miss Evangeline, and…” she paused. “Please excuse me.” She turned to Aidan and Dean. “Why are you two staring at me?”

“I, ah, just… didn’t notice your eye colour before. It’s unusual.” Dean tried to give the assistant a winning smile.

“Ian’s been looking for you,” Aidan said bluntly.

Vi paled a bit before shaking her head and continuing on. “I am not working as Sir McKellen’s assistant right now. It will have to wait. As I was saying, Miss Evangeline, here’s the changed itinerary.” She handed over several sheets of paper for Evangeline to look over. The actress smiled to herself and took them – Vi was a very… attentive assistant, almost as bad as her brother.

Benedict reached out and grabbed the assistant’s arm just as Evangeline took the new schedule. “That’s an interesting charm bracelet you’re wearing.”

The assistant shifted nervously. “I… thank you, I think. I’ve had it for years. I, uhm… it’s very nice to meet you, Mister Cumberbatch. I absolutely love Sherlock. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is a favourite author of mine.” She blushed slightly. “Could you let go? Please?”

“Just one moment, I want to look.” Benedict bent to see her bracelet, poking at the tiny charms. “There’s a shield and a thimble on here. Symbols like that are rare, at least, when put together. Oh, look, 47 – you’re interested in maths? Very interesting. You know, I read somewhere that women use charm bracelets to advertise their strengths and what they keep close to the heart. Is that true?”

“I just chose things I liked,” Vi stammered.

Benedict gave her a cheeky grin and released her wrist. “Indeed. Nice to meet you.” Vi thanked him and Evangeline before heading to the elevator, apparently done with her task.

After the assistant was on her way, Dean raised an eyebrow at Bragi. “We really need to work on boundaries with you. I think you nearly gave her a heart attack.” He turned to his lover. “You too, Aidan. She’s probably going to hide from us for the rest of the convention.”

Benedict blinked innocently. “But the charms are symbols, and the symbols are…” he trailed off.

“Are you all right?” Luke asked, yawning. “You’re acting strange.”

“He always acts strange,” Aidan teased, copying Luke in his yawn. Why was it that yawns were contagious?

“I’m not strange. I just happen to be a fan of poetry. And because poetry is highly symbolic, I happen to be a fan of symbols. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen those symbols before…” Benedict yawned. “Too tired. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Brain isn’t working.”

“We all need sleep,” Dean agreed. “We start bright and early tomorrow, and some of us didn’t get a proper rest last night.”

“You and Aidan were ‘busy’?” Benedict asked.

“We were watching a film!” Aidan frowned. “Christ, take your mind out of the gutter.”

“Is that what they’re calling is nowadays: 'watching a film'?” Benedict grinned and sprinted down the hall, opening his room and shutting the door before Aidan could chase him down.

“He does realise that all the rooms are connected, doesn’t he?” Luke asked Dean as Aidan swore at Benedict’s door.

Dean nodded. “Of course he does. But we have to go through Richard’s and Martin’s rooms to get there… and they’ll lecture us for picking fights.” He strode down the hallway and dragged his boyfriend back. “Come on, Aid. Sleep time. Kill Ben tomorrow.”

They said their good nights to one another, promising more adventures the next day.

 

****************************

 

Another day, another interview panel, some more photo-ops, and then signings. Aidan was dying to go shopping in the vendor room, fidgeting restlessly at his table. They’d behaved today – no pranks, no over-the-top silliness during the photo-ops, and he’d even been charming to the crazy girl who kept stopping by the tables and leering at him. All in all, nothing Ian, Peter, or Richard could lecture him about. They didn't have Al for security today, which was actually a bit of a disappointment.

“D’you think we can go? I want to look at the shops. We haven’t had any signatures in ages, nobody’s going to care.” Aidan asked, more rhetorically than anything else.

“Go ask Peter. I’m not leaving without his okay.” Dean didn’t look up from his sketchbook. He’d added a lot of drawings to it in the past few days… several of which were of the Irishman who was seated next to him.

“He’ll say ‘no’,” Aidan sulked. “We’re supposed to be keeping an eye out for a certain lady.”

“Then you have your answer. It’s not too bad. We could be running through the fields in New Zealand again, in full Dwarf gear. Or in the barrels. You could be having to hit on Evangeline again, making me jealous.” Dean grinned. “We just sit here and wait.”

Aidan leaned back in his chair. “I know. I was just hoping for more fans. I even practised my signature to make it cooler, just in case.”

“We’ll get lots of attention when the movie comes out. We’re the ‘Hot Dwarves’, remember? This is just the beginning of the publicity, we’ve got to let it snowball a bit. Maybe we should look busy. Busy people attract more attention.” Dean suggested.

“How’re we supposed to do that? We can’t just make people come up and get autographs.” Aidan tilted his chair back a little, balancing on two legs. As if that wasn’t an accident waiting to happen.

Dean looked around. “Actually, we can. Hey, over here!” He waved his arm at an assistant. “Vi, hey, Vi, I need you over here.”

The set assistant, who’d been checking up on Evangeline before heading back to the hotel, gave them a confused look, but wandered over. “I’m here for Eva, not you two. What is it?”

“We’re bored. Act like you’re getting our autograph.” Aidan insisted.

“I’m not here to entertain you,” Vi protested. “And you’re not children.”

“Quid pro quo, you help us, we help you.” Dean grinned. “Come on, just talk to us. Hey, why did you ask that question about what Gods we’d be?”

“Because I’m delusional, and like studying history. I’m not going to talk to Ian right now, if that’s what you’re wanting. I’m not ready to.” Vi sighed, her flickered down to the glass bead bracelets on the actor's wrists.

The Wizard wasn’t scheduled for signings that day, having taken a holiday during the week. “Not what we want. Just stand here and talk to us. Get our autographs.” Dean pulled a photo from his stack. “Now, what should I put on this? To Vi? That’s really short.”

VI sighed. “Olivia. Use Olivia.”

“Olivia, old school name.” Dean happily signed the picture, one of him posing majestically in costume. Aidan pulled a photo from his own stack and merrily copied his boyfriend. “See, now you have our autographs.” Dean beamed at Vi as he handed over the photos.

“Thanks, guys.” She smiled indulgently. Boys will be boys. “That was very sweet of you. You said quid pro quo… can I ask for a favor?” She glanced down the tables, at the more ‘famous’ actors.

“You want another autograph? Whose? Lee’s? Rich’s?” Aidan asked.

“Mister Cumberbatch. I love his portrayal of Sherlock Holmes.” Vi looked nervous.

“And here we thought you’d run from him after last night,” Dean teased. “Bit of a crush?”

“A bit of one, yes.” The young woman admitted.

Aidan and Dean exchanged glances. What better way to make their day more entertaining? “Come on, let’s get you in to talk to Ben. He’s a really nice guy, he won’t mind.” Aidan grinned like a puppy and tried to drag the assistant towards the tables. Vi stopped him, taking time to carefully put the autographs they’d given her into her satchel, then followed. She gave Evangeline a pleading look, but the actress just waved merrily, happy that the assistant was making friends.

“Ben, hey, Ben, can you do us a favour?” Dean asked as they approached his table. Benedict was seated in between Martin and Richard, and both sons of Zeus were glaring at the lads. Let them glare. They couldn’t do anything without making a scene, which neither older actor was willing to do. “Vi, you remember her, right? The girl you grabbed in the hallway last night? Well, she wants your autograph.”

“Not because you grabbed her,” Aidan elaborated. “Because that was weird. But she likes your Sherlock character.”

“And we think you should give her one to apologize for grabbing her,” Dean finished. It was like they’d rehearsed it. Dean gently put a hand on Vi’s back, pushing her towards the table. They received numerous glares from people waiting in line. Perhaps it would have been smarter to wait until they were back at the rooms. Oh, well.

Benedict looked surprised, then nodded. “Why not? I’m sorry for grabbing you, but your bracelet was… intriguing.” He put on his ‘Sherlock’ face, that half-grin when he knew he was right about something. “I’ll give you an autograph if you let me see it again.”

Vi held her wrist close to her. “Why are you so interested in it?”

“Why are you so defensive of it?” Benedict countered. Their little argument had gotten Martin’s attention, and he was distractedly trying to see what was going on. Vi sighed, and held her wrist out. The Sherlock actor inspected the charms, smiling the entire time. “Ah. I thought so. I was too tired last night to work it out. Martin, you should have noticed this, too. Your poetry abilities should have made you pay attention to symbolism.” He poked at the bracelet. “You, know, I gave your comics to those two, if you want them back, Athena.”

Vi tried to tug her arm back, but Benedict held firm, showing the bracelet to Martin. “Ah, you don’t want to make a scene, do you, Athena?”

Martin’s world had narrowed to that tiny bracelet. A shield, an owl, a book, a thimble, a mouse, Iron Man’s glowing-thing, a magnifying glass, a One Ring, a Star Wars Rebel insignia, a Greek Omega, and a Mulan. The more modern additions only accentuated the old fashioned things. Heroes, stories of rising to the occasion, and good triumphing over evil. Genius and hard work triumphing over chaos. Athena had always liked those kinds of stories. “Athena?”

The girl looked around, trying to see if anyone was paying attention. Well, they were, but for all the wrong reasons – several fans were glaring at her for daring to touch Benedict, which was funny, because she wasn’t being given a choice. “You’ll cause a scene if I back away, won’t you?”

“Oh, damn right I will.” Martin nodded. “And I’ll get Dionysus to help.” He reached out a hand and touched her wrist, right next to her bracelet. A spark shot out, and Martin hissed. “Ow. Hate that, really do. Every single bloody time.” He didn’t let go. Instead he leaned over the table as much as he could, pulling Vi into a hug. “It’s worth it. Welcome home, little sister.” If anyone said his voice choked up in a sob, he’d call them a liar.

Vi wrapped her arms around Martin in a warm hug. Benedict looked ecstatic, wiping tears away from his own eyes. Aidan and Dean shared a fistpump.

“Sorry, did I just hear you call her Athena?” Richard asked, having stepped away from his table momentarily. Martin nodded. The King of Erebor held out a hand to Vi. “It’s nice to meet you.” Vi shook it, nodding absently.

“Athena, this is our little brother Anextiomarus. Anextiomarus, Athena. Dad adopted him. He’s… uh… also King Arthur. Was King Arthur. Long story.” Martin explained.

“I am certainly a fan,” Vi smiled nervously.

Richard reached down to give her a hug. “Wonderful to finally meet you,” the actor said.

“Come on, they’ve got a line. Ben, do your signature before those fans in line kill us.” Dean reminded them of where they were – in the middle of a convention with thousands of people around. Not the best place for this.

“Yes, of course. Bragi, I still want my autograph.” Vi said, wiping her tears away and trying to compose herself. 

“What makes you think I’m Bragi? I was too young when you died, you wouldn't have known my name.” Benedict asked. Vi gave him a look. “Right… logic.” He pulled a photo from his stack, one with him and Martin from Sherlock. He scribbled his name on it, then shoved it at Martin. “You, too. Watson is very important to Sherlock. They’re best friends.”

Martin beamed and signed the photo, blowing on it to dry it. He handed it over to Vi, who hugged him again and placed the photo with the others in the satchel.

“Wait a moment,” Richard looked annoyed. He returned to his table long enough to grab a photograph of Thorin swinging Orcrist. He nicked Martin’s Sharpie and signed it. “If you get theirs, you have to get mine.” He insisted, handing it over to Vi. She thanked him profusely.

Aidan and Dean glanced at one another, apparently thinking the same thing. They didn't have anything better to do... “Come on, we’ll show you the rest of the family.” Dean insisted, tugging Vi towards Peter’s table.

“You’re… Diz said you didn’t zap him.” Vi looked confused.

“It’s complicated,” Aidan said. “Richard’s kind of like our Dad. Overprotective bastard. Here, look, Hermes!” He motioned to Peter.

Introductions were made, and Vi was hugged by Peter, who just barely managed to not cry. Aidan and Dean insisted he sign something for her, and then they were off to James, Graham, and Mark. More hugs, more tears, and Aidan and Dean made her sure her satchel was full of autographs from her family. Even Lee was introduced as Vi’s brother-in-law. Kevin was the hardest for her to meet, over at his signing table on the opposite end of the signing area. She almost wouldn’t let him go, talking about her ‘baby brother’. Kevin was just as bad – Dean swore he’d never seen the actor cry until that day.

By the end of it all, Vi’s eyes were red from crying tears of joy. She hugged the Dwarven Princes tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean smiled, hugging her back. “And you brightened our day, made it more exciting. Family reunions are great.”

Vi laughed. “I’m glad I could be of service, gentlemen.”

“You’re not going, are you?” Aidan looked disappointed. “Your family’s here. Why not stick around? You’re an assistant, right? Assist!” He threw his hands in the air to emphasize his point. “You could… make sure we don’t run out of pens and water. Or something. Beat back Richard’s line, they’re a little insane over there.”

“You just want me to keep entertaining you,” Vi teased. She glanced at her watch, scrunching up her nose. She looked like Aidan when she did that. “I can spare some time. My brothers should be in the vendor’s room – they can spend hours there. They won’t miss me.”

Aidan and Dean gave each other another fistpump and headed back to their table. According to Mark, in the half an hour the two lads had spent introducing Vi to her family, only four or five people had shown up for autographs, and they’d gone to Richard’s line when they realized the two Princes were busy. Aidan hoped they’d come back, after.

Vi floated between her family and the lads, sitting and talking with Mark for a while, then making sure her brothers had everything they needed. Martin intentionally left the cap off all his markers so that his sister would have to stop by with replacements.

It was nearing the end of the day when Vi’s other brothers came looking for her.

Diz stormed in, a whirlwind of blue hair and temper. The first words out of his mouth were to Dean and Aidan. “Why did you keep my sister here?”

“Whoa, calm it down, lad.” Mark rose from his seat – thankfully he had nobody waiting for an autograph – and put a hand on Diz’s shoulder. “Vi is here because she wanted to be. There’s a circumstance you don’t quite understand.”

Al was right behind his brother, and seeing them together for the first time made Dean realize that although there was a massive height difference between the brothers, their faces were identical. Twins. He should have worked that out ages ago. “She’s here.”

“Oh, yes. I’m here.” Vi smiled at her brothers from behind the tables. “I got to hear from… everybody about how much you two have given them trouble.”

Al and Diz glanced at each other. For the first time ever that Aidan and Dean had known them, they actually looked worried. “We were just looking out for you.” Al tried to explain.

“Okay… I think we need to have a family meeting,” Vi sighed. “Where is the best place for it?”

“Peter’s room,” Aidan nodded. “Corner room, more space than the rest of ours.”

“Peter is not part of the family,” Diz protested.

“Really?” Vi grinned. “We’ll just see about that.”

********************

As soon as signings were over with, the Gods (plus Lee, Dean, and Aidan) met in Peter’s room. Ian was still sleeping, claiming he’d caught a ‘blasted American virus’. As soon as they’d brought enough chairs in for everyone, a knock came at the door. Vi, Diz, and Al stood outside when Simon answered it. “Hello, little brother. Can I come in?” The Goddess asked.

Simon stood aside as Vi and her brothers entered. As soon as the door was shut, the comedian wrapped his arms around Vi and gave her a giant bear hug. “I thought Martin was lying, in his text. It’s really you? Athena?”

“I’m going to wind up dead if you keep squeezing,” Vi managed to say. “Yes, it’s me.”

Simon released her, eyes watery. “We’ve all missed you, you know. I tried to help, I really did. I did Star Trek, and did Shaun of the Dead – I thought you liked zombies. They told me that you’d just been pacifying me when you watched Night of the Living Dead.”

“Oh, it scared me half to death, but you loved it, so I had to watch it with you. I will tell you this - your Shaun of the Dead is the only reason I don’t have zombie nightmares anymore. If it hadn’t been for that movie, I would not have been able to watch any modern zombie film.” Vi stood on her tiptoes and kissed Simon on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re serious?” Simon asked. Vi nodded. “I helped! Ha, I helped!” He turned to the other actors and their director. “See, I told you that making Shaun of the Dead helped!” He bounced on his heels.

“Now look at what you’ve done. We’ll never hear the end of it.” Martin sighed, motioning to his brother.

As Simon took his seat, still reeling on about his film, Vi motioned to Al and Diz. “I’m sorry for the trouble. I would like to formally introduce Alexander and Darius Murphy. Diz is Pan-”

“Uh, Vi, we shouldn’t go about telling strangers that! Just because we work with them, that doesn’t mean that we should tell them about…” Diz stopped talking when he realized that Peter was standing right in front of him. “Hello?”

Peter hadn’t said a single word. He had gotten up and out of his chair faster than anyone there had ever seen him move – even when Richard’s barrel had gotten stuck under water for a few moments. He took a deep breath and stared at Diz, which wasn’t hard, since they were almost the same height. “Is that true? Are you Pan?”

“…yes?” Diz answered, looking wary. Peter reached for him, but Diz stepped back.

Peter moved to follow, but was stopped by James. “Lad, I hate to tell you this, but you touch him, and he’s Pan, we’re going to have fireworks in here. Give me a second.” He stopped, thought for a moment, then wiggled his fingers. A car battery appeared out of nowhere, along with a pole attached to jumper cables. James made quick work of connecting the cables to the battery. “That should work, I think. I recommend holding the lightning rod between you, it should get rid of any extra electricity.”

Peter didn’t even stop to thank James. He grabbed hold of the lightning rod, and grabbed at Diz with the same hand. They heard a ‘pop’, but thankfully, James’s trick worked. Peter grinned like a fool and hugged Diz. “Pan. Little Pan.” The director sobbed out, holding Diz. “Your mother is not going to like the blue hair. Do you realize you’ve been missing for six centuries? We’ve been so worried! We thought maybe you’d faded, or something. My boy, my son…”

Diz froze. “...Hermes? Dad?” He managed to look at Vi, who nodded, smiling. “Dad, its’ really you, right?” Peter nodded, still holding his Godly son. Diz wrapped his arms around Peter and just relished the moment.

While Hermes and Pan were having a lengthy and tearful reunion, Al was staring at James. “Only one God can make things out of thin air.”

“Iapetus, God of Crafting and Mortality.” James gave a small bow. “Also known as the George Clooney of the Dwarves.”

“Thought you couldn’t make electronics?” Dean asked.

“Batteries are mostly chemicals. It’s like making a cup of coffee. With a lead cup. Complicated, but not impossible.” James explained to the mortal. When he turned back to Al, he found the lad staring at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Yesterday I wanted to kill you. I wanted you dead for talking about Vi that way. And you’re… you’re… Iapetus.” Al looked at him in awe.

“Why are you so stuck on…” realization hit James. “The apples. You’re ATLAS!”

“What apples?” Al looked surprised. “I’m Atlas, but-“

“Ha, my boy, my clever boy!” James retrieved his no-zap contraption and used it to ground out the electricity from their touch. “Graham, come here and see your brother!” He hugged Al, happily chattering on a mile a minute. Graham wandered over, smiling slightly. Together, the three talked, Al seemingly in shock while his father and brother relished in his safe return. It had, after all, been nearly two thousand years.

"All right, explain this to me, why the bloody hell didn’t you say something sooner?” Martin demanded of Vi. “And if you knew those two were Gods, how come you didn’t tell them that we’re Gods.”

Vi looked down at the carpet. “Both can be answered at the same time. I thought I was crazy, I didn’t want you thinking it too. In the back of my mind, I figured that Al and Diz were just going with it, because I was crazy. I told them that I thought you were all Gods, but I didn’t tell them which ones. Looking back… I think Al and Diz have been on their own for so long, they’re very wary of other Gods. The last God we met tried to kill me. And almost managed to kill Al. I didn’t know how everyone would react.”

“So you didn’t tell them that their parents were here?” Martin asked. 

“I wasn’t sure I was right. I didn’t want to… give them too much hope.” Vi explained. Martin nodded, he could respect that, even if he didn’t quite care for it. Instead of arguing the point, he wrapped his arms around his sister again. His other brothers (aside from an ecstatic Peter and a shy Richard) followed suit.

An hour later, pizza had been ordered from some local place that delivered, beer had been ordered from room service (though both James and Aidan claimed the American alcohol wasn’t true beer). Chairs had been removed, and blankets brought in for a proper camp-out. Dean had refused to eat pizza, and Al had suggested they order something called ‘buffalo wings’ for the nervous Kiwi. Only Lee and the three ‘newest’ Gods seemed to understand why they were called buffalo wings – buffalo didn’t have wings - and even if they did, they wouldn’t be as small as the food that arrived. And it tasted suspiciously like spicy barbequed chicken. Still, Dean found it an acceptable alternative.

Whatever grudges they had against the Gods had evaporated. Though Diz and Al still didn’t like the three mortals getting too close to their sister, they had stopped threatening them. They’d told their story, of how they’d met in high school in the Greek Mythology club and Vi’s mother and the twins’ father had gotten married. Shortly after they graduated from university, some lesser Gods in Aphrodite’s employ had gone after them. Al had been shot, playing body shield for his sister. They’d run, changing their names and moving repeatedly and rapidly. Olivia had never like ‘Rosalie’ anyway.

After they finished talking history (Al and Diz were both impressed that Richard had been adopted by Zeus, claiming that the Lightning God had never adopted anyone until Anextiomarus came along), they wandered into the realm of telling stories. Mostly Peter, Graham, James, Al, and Diz catching up on their adventures over the centuries. Peter called Fran on his mobile, insisting that Pan needed to talk to his mother. Unfortunately for Diz, Fran remembered him… and was not very keen on the blue hair, but was extremely happy that her son had found his way home.

As Diz talked with his mother about the fact that he’d been on his own since the plagues had hit Europe and that he could take care of himself and make adult decisions (something Fran obviously didn’t believe… he was Pan, after all), the rest took it upon themselves to relax. James made sure that Al was sitting between him and Graham, not willing to let his sons out of his sight. Vi was sitting between Kevin and Simon, both brothers excited to have their precious sister back. It was obvious that although Hercules had done some great things, he had more than a bit of hero-worship for his older sister.

It was all fun and games… until Richard sneezed.

A lamp popped, glass sphere shattering, and cheerful little flames sprouted from it.

“Sod it all, not again!” Richard sighed. Lee, sitting next to his lover, started laughing. He wrapped an arm around the Englishman and gave him a squeeze.

“I’ve got it,” Graham was obviously trying to not laugh as he made the fire vanish. “Well, that was six days without an accident. You’re doing better.”

Vi turned to look at Richard. “Ah. I was wondering what you could do. Really, you should have a handle on that by now, you’ve been around for centuries, King Arthur.”

Richard blushed. “The fire is new…” He was about to explain that he was a tribal God to start with, and that he’d gotten Hephaestus’s powers, but was stopped by a figure looming in the doorway that led to Ian’s suite.

“There was a loud noise. What are you breaking? Oh, look, pizza.” Ian looked around, still obviously half asleep. He stumbled into the room, sniffling slightly. “I want pepperoni pizza. And a blanket. It’s cold in here.” Despite the fact that it wasn’t actually cold, Martin retrieved a spare blanket for his father. Ian gratefully took it, along with a plate of his favorite pizza. He skipped the beer, stating that in his sickly state, he couldn’t possibly be expected to handle that horrid American drink. He was wrapped up in the blanket, sitting in the only chair, munching on his pizza, when he noticed that it wasn’t just a God party. “Vi? Why are you in here?”

“Aidan said you were looking for me,” Vi said, trying to remember to swallow her pizza before she talked. “So here I am.”

“Oh, yes. I was. You asked about the Greek Gods. Why?” Ian snuggled into his blanket.

“Because I wanted to see what you would say,” Vi shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. She leaned over and retrieved her purse, pulling something out of it. “Have you taken any cold medicine?”

Ian scowled at her. “I do not require… cold medicine."

Vi sighed, opening a tab of medicine. “Stubborn as the rushing wind and as irritating as a summer storm.” She took the pills and pressed them into Ian’s hand, and a spark went between them. “If you don’t take those, I will find a way to make you."

Ian scowled at the pills in his hand… then realization dawned. “You just shocked me.”

“Dad, take the medicine.” Vi mock-glared at him. “And lots of water.”

“You’re Athena,” Ian gaped.

Vi smiled wryly. “Who else is brave enough to tell you to take medicine?” She shook her head and muttered “Typical male – acts like he’s dying when he’s sick, but is too macho to take the stuff that will make him better.”

Ian frowned at the pills in his hand, then popped them into his mouth and took a gulp of water to wash it down. As soon as he did so, he reached out a hand towards Vi. “Precious little girl. Looking out for her father…” She stepped forward, taking his hand and then hugging him, despite the fact that she was going to wind up sick, as he slowly started to cry. “I thought I’d never see you again…”

“I’m here now, Dad.” She smiled, a bright, genuine thing. “I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Athena had been FOUND! Actually, she found them ages ago (Ian's car accident made her worried, so she headed to New Zealand). So now... all that's left is to end filming and figure out who would be best to date Zeus's daughter...
> 
> A very, VERY special thanks goes out to W.D., who put up with the seven million changes to this chapter.


	24. An honest proposal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which Richard buys gifts and is honest, the children go to the zoo, and Dean finds something to love, other than Aidan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the gap between the chapters is enormous. I have no excuse. However, both this chapter and the epilogue will be posted at the same time, and hopefully later today I will have a side story up!
> 
> Please note that the editing for this chapter occurred very late at night, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know. Please forgive any of those mistakes.

Richard adjusted the mask he was wearing. It was hard enough getting through the crowds in the shops on the convention floor; let alone doing it in a costume. But, given his newfound massive celebrity status (and the fact that when he’d tried to walk the floor earlier, he’d been more or less assaulted by excited Hobbit fans) Simon was right about the costumes. 

Still, he didn’t think that walking around dressed as some sort of goblin was very… grown up.

“How do you do this? I can barely see!” Richard complained to his… overly enthusiastic brother.

“You don’t have to worry about that. If you’re in costume, they’ll get out of your way. One perk of being dressed up.” Simon said through his Darth Vader mask. “Only bad thing as that they may ask you to stop for photos… but it’s because of the costume, not the fame. People tend to be really polite when asking costumers to pose for photos.”

Richard tried not to complain further. Simon was correct, they’d only been stopped once, and though they’d had to pose for a photo for an excited Star Wars fan who squealed “Darth Vader and Jar Jar!” Richard wasn’t sure what a Jar Jar was (or why he was named after a storage container – twice), but at least the fan hadn’t begged for hugs or an autograph. Not that he minded hugs, from the right people, of course.

They walked through the shops, trying to focus. He had no idea what he was looking for now. Richard found something for Aidan and Dean – a set of ‘Batarangs’ (sharp little metal Batman symbols meant for throwing, apparently; though he wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to actually give them to the lads) for each of them, a poster from Casablanca for Aidan, and some old Star Wars toys for Dean (Simon helped choose those). He’d bought toys for Martin’s and Adam’s children, and a pair of vintage Sherlock Holmes posters for Martin and Benedict (he was quite aware that he was being obnoxious with that). Simon had picked out his own ‘gift’, a T-shirt with a bunch of Star Trek people in red shirts that read ‘Walking Dead’ – nonsensical, at best. A few other odds and ends and gifts had been purchased, but Richard still hadn’t found what he was looking for.

Something for Lee; and something for Athena.

Nothing was perfect. Supposedly, his new sister was an absolute nerd – Simon had suggested comic books, replica weapons, replica armor, jewelry, books, models, strategy games, and some toys.

In other words, everything at the bloody convention.

Lee wasn’t easy to shop for, either. For some reason, Richard kept wandering to jewelry shops when thinking of Lee’s gift, but he hadn’t found anything he thought Lee would like.

“Don’t buy that, she’ll want to play it with the rest of us. And she’ll win.” Simon sighed, taking the game of Lord of the Rings Risk away from the Dwarven King. “You should know better.”

“You said Athena likes strategy games,” Richard protested.

“Yes, but don’t buy her that one, she’ll want to play with YOU. Get her the futuristic version of Risk. She’ll like that, and she’ll probably play with Al and Diz, not you.” Simon explained.

“The point of the game was to play with her,” Richard looked confused.

Simon nodded, a strange look for Darth Vader. “Yes, yes, but only if you mind loosing every single time. Listen, try something with more chance, less strategy. At least you’ll win once in a while.”

Richard returned the game to the shop’s shelf, leaving the shop to wander a bit more. He came across a bookseller, the stall lined high with thousands of copies of different books. They had a glass curio of more expensive titles locked away – he could see the books, but couldn’t touch. There were little folded cards next to each of the titles – a price. “Simon, she likes books, right?”

“She’s always carried one wherever she went, for the past three hundred years or so. Why?” Simon was glancing at some titles that piqued his interest – something about monsters or vampires or the like.

Richard nodded. “Excuse me, sir?” He caught the attention of the shopkeeper. “May I look at those?” He pointed into the curio.

Ten minutes later, after thoroughly inspecting the books, Richard had made his purchase and was carefully carrying it through the last of the shops. He’d made Simon carry the rest of the gifts – Darth Vader certainly looked funny while trying to tote around several shopping bags. Some of which were from Simon’s own spending spree. As they carefully picked their way through the maze of shops towards the exit – Simon was right, people got out of your way if you were in costume – Richard passed a display he hadn’t come across before. Another jewelry shop, this one much more low-key than the rest. He paused, looking at one item in particular. It didn't look like much. He picked it up, weighing it in his hand.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Richard automatically noted that it was made of a nickel and silver alloy, not pure silver, and the words engraved on the item were perfect. It wasn't an expensive item, but… it was perfect. He paid for it, placing it in the bag with Vi’s gift. He had everything he needed. Time to go.

Twenty minutes later, Simon decided that he was going to lead the way out, as they had passed the same jeweler three times.

The King of Erebor really needed to work on his directional skills.

 

***********************************

 

When Richard and Simon finally arrived back at the rooms, they found Aidan and Dean sitting at a dining table with Lee. “This is never a good thing…” Richard muttered to himself as he divested himself of the mask and outer layers of the costume before taking a seat. “What’s going on?”

“Lee was just telling us about all the cool stuff in San Diego,” Aidan explained excitedly. “They have one of the best zoo’s in the world!”

“We’re thinking about asking Martin, Jimmy, and Adam if they want to bring their kids to see the animals. And us, of course.” Dean explained. “I want to see the arctic animals, and Aid wants to see the elephants.”

“I’ve never seen one before,” Aidan chirped. “Not in real life, anyway.”

“I go shopping, and you do this?” Richard tried to look annoyed. “You want to go see animals?”

Lee shook his head. “I don’t, they do. And I didn’t start this conversation, I was napping on the couch when they woke me up by swordfighting in their room.”

Simon snickered, pulling off his Darth Vader mask. “I’m not taking them to the zoo. You’ll just have to get Martin to watch them.”

Richard scowled. “They aren’t my children. They can handle themselves.”

Simon shook his head, smiling to himself. Oh, yes, the Dwarven Princes could handle themselves… which was why the Dwarven King hovered over them like a nervous father. Which was why he had allowed them to camp out in his trailer several times. Not his children, indeed! “All right, whatever you say. They can go and play with the bears and alligators and hippos, and you’re perfectly fine with it. You do know that more people are killed by hippos each year than elephants, right? Odd, you’d think because they were so big…”

Lee laughed when Richard paled slightly. “They’ll be fine. Now, if Isaac were here and wanted to go with them, I’d worry. We don’t want him learning bad habits.”

“He’s several thousand years old…” Richard protested.

“And he liked jumping off of fake rocks. I wouldn’t put it past him to climb into a tiger cage. That’s the problem with you immortal Gods, you take stupid risks.” Lee got up to fetch more coffee. “Speaking of… we’d better get Jimmy to check on you three again. That whole Apple thing and all.” He scowled at Simon, who was removing bits of his costume and dumping them onto the floor of Richard and Lee’s room. Dionysus excelled at making messes.

“He’ll just poke at us and tell us he doesn’t know,” Dean complained. “With all due respect, he’s a little useless in that context.”

“Why not ask Atlas? He knows all about those apples, doesn’t he?” Lee suggested. “I mean, it was from his garden.”

“Good idea. Come along, let’s go annoy Jimmy and Al.” Simon stretched, now down to just a shirt and pants.

Richard went to the bedroom to change, taking his bags of gifts with him. Knowing the lads, they’d probably go through the gifts. Lee definitely would go through the gifts, and then pretend he’d never touched them. Lee could be nosy when he wanted to be. After putting on comfortable closes and hiding the bags in what he thought was a discrete location, he headed out with the others.

James had both Graham and Al in his room, along with his two daughters. The three were teaching the girls how to play Rook, and Al had little Mary on his lap, holding the cards for her. “Hey, can we talk?” Richard asked.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.” James didn’t look up from his cards.

“It’s a family thing,” Simon explained.

“Ah, blast it.” Graham sighed, throwing down his cards. “I was going to sweep this round.”

Al covered Mary’s ears. “Little ears! What’s wrong with you? My baby sister doesn’t need to be hearing that!”

Simon, Richard, Aidan, and Dean all turned to look at James. “Long-lost son, remember?” He gave a cheeky grin. “You were there.”

Of course James would find a way to explain Atlas suddenly coming into his life. It wasn’t like it would hurt his marriage any, his wife had filed divorce papers just last week. “Yes, we were there. But we need to talk to you and him. Family thing.” Simon repeated, rolling his eyes.

“All right, girls, I think it’s bedtime.” James sighed. Both girls looked at with ‘do we have to’ looks. “Tell you what, you go to bed, and Al will take you shopping and you can buy whatever you want. Does that sound good?”

“I like Mister Aidan better. He makes funny faces.” Mary argued. “And then he pretends he’s dying.”

“Okay, he’ll take you shopping tomorrow if you go to bed now.” James promised. Aidan tried to protest, but James gave him a glare and any arguments died on Aidan’s lips. Really, the younger Irishman couldn’t complain too much, Dean had already gone shopping with Martin’s son. Peggy and Mary couldn’t be that difficult, could they?

The girls quickly put the cards away and headed to the bedroom, where a rolling mattress was waiting… except they all knew that the girls were sleeping on the comfortable bed, and James was sleeping on the spare mattress. As soon as they were gone and the door to the bedroom shut behind them, Simon pushed Lee, Aidan, and Dean forward.

“Jimmy, can you check on them? We’re a little worried.” Simon explained.

James sighed dramatically and checked each one’s pulse. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“What’s wrong?” Al asked, cocking his head sideways.

“Your blasted Apple, that’s what’s wrong. Son, why would you experiment with something like that?” James gave him son a disapproving glare.

“Apple? Why have all of you been talking about my Apples lately? There’s only one that’s finished ripening in my lifetime thus far, and it’s safe, back at the apartment in New Zealand. I didn’t know if anyone else could get to that garden, so I took it and hid it. It’s in my weightlifting trophy case, it looks like any other shiny trophy.” Al frowned.

“You sure about that?” Simon asked.

Atlas scowled at Dionysus. “Absolutely positive. I put it there myself, and locked the case.”

“Any from previous lives?” James inquired from his son.

Al shook his head. “All of them are in a Swiss safe deposit box. There’s about four in there. I just hadn’t gotten around to delivering this last one – that Apple finished ripening about four months ago, and we’ve been very busy since then. Look, I’m careful with those Apples. I know what they can do. I wouldn’t go out and bake an apple pie with them, okay?”

Graham nodded absently. “This last one was an Immortality Apple, wasn’t it, lad?”

“Yes. Only one in the past five hundred years.” Al explained. “You know how rare those are! There’s been only about a dozen since I was born! I took special care of it. Only Diz and Vi knew about it, and really, what use would they have for it?”

Dean looked thoughtful. “Is Vi good at baking?”

That was an odd question. “Yeah. She loves it. She and Diz take over the kitchen during the holidays, and they make about a thousand cakes and cookies for everyone we know. Those two can make fruitcakes that are actually edible. They’ve had requests for wedding cakes. Why? What’s that got to do with anything?”

Richard followed Dean’s train of thought. “Was she baking before you left for San Diego with us?”

Al thought for a moment. “She was making turnovers, cherry and pear.”

“And apple?” James bit his lip.

“No, no apple. I’m pretty sure there wasn’t any apple.” Al looked confused.

“Where is she?” Richard leaned over, glaring at the God.

“In our room with Diz. She checked on Zeus and then went to take a nap. I wanted some family time, so I stuck around.” Al looked confused. “What has she got to do with this?”

“I think she stole your Apple,” James tried not to laugh.

Five minutes later, Simon had rounded up Zeus (who still said he was ill, but had stopped sniffling), and every other God at the hotel, and they'd met up with the Immortals,  James and his Godly family, and Richard. Eventually, they were all were standing in the hotel room Evangeline had booked for Atlas and his siblings. Even Pan was standing with his father. None of them looked happy.

“Athena, dear sister of mine, you didn’t… borrow one of my Golden Apple, did you?”

Athena crossed her arms and glared. “I noticed that someone was trying to kill Dean and Aidan, and well, I had to find a way to mitigate it. The Apple was the only way I could think of. Sue me.”

“So you baked it?” Atlas squeaked. “Who knows what that could’ve done! Especially since they didn’t eat the whole apple!”

“I didn’t want them dead!” Athena protested, pointing at Aidan and Dean. “They’re adorable little heroes and they don’t deserve to get killed by Aphrodite! I didn’t even give them the turnovers until I saw the God that shot you, dear brother, here at the convention! Aphrodite doesn’t care about mortals who get hurt or killed – her henchmen thought you were mortal, remember? Not to mention that they went after Zeus in that car accident! They’re insane! I don’t know if our side put any offenses up, or even any defenses!”

Atlas cringed. “I was hoping you hadn’t spotted Lelantos. Diz and I took care of him; sent him scurrying back to Aphrodite two days ago. With a few broken bones and a warning.”

Athena rolled her eyes. “Thanks for telling me. I’ve been worried sick over that!”

“Yeah…” Pan shifted from foot to foot. “That one we should’ve told you about…” He looked down at the carpet. “Sorry.” Athena seemed to relax.

Zeus gave his daughter a smile. “Hecate did some work to keep them safe; enchanted clothes and costumes. And the car accident was not my fault. I was fine, after Apollo got a hold of me. I’m glad I was sitting in that seat, otherwise it would have been one of the young lads.”

Athena ducked her head, looking genuinely upset. “I didn’t know. I knew there had been several attempts on their lives – your medic does a great job keeping records… I sort of checked the filing cabinet while I was in the clinic with Evangeline.”

Apollo reached over and gave his sister’s hand a squeeze. “It’s all right. You were protecting them. Hell, you were protecting us, weren’t you? That’s why you got the job there, isn’t it? Funny, we’d given up hope that you’d turn up. We shouldn’t have.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

While Athena gave her Godly brothers a hug, Lee turned to the God of Mortality. “So… what exactly did the Apple do? You didn’t tell us, Jimmy.”

All eyes were suddenly on Iapetus. He twiddled his fingers for a few moments before speaking. “Well, her plan worked. It’s not as strong as when we’ve given Golden Apples to others, and Lee had the least of it. But… yeah, they’re immortal. They’ve all got at least another six or seven lives, by my estimation. The magic should start to fade after that.”

“Really? We’re immortal?” Aidan piped in. “That’s… terrifying and awesome at the same time.”

Richard, in the meantime, had grabbed onto Lee’s hand, gripping it tightly. “We’ve got more time together,” Lee whispered. “It’s not forever…but…”

“Sounds like a dream to me,” Richard whispered back.

 

************************************

 

That night, Lee was restlessly puttering about the hotel room. Rather than wake Richard repeatedly as he wandered about the room, he gave his lover a kiss, left a note in case the Englishman woke, and slipped out of the room.

Down in the lobby, Andy Sirkis was reading a newspaper. Apparently Lee wasn’t the only one with insomnia. Andy had trouble with jet lag from the moment they’d landed. “Hello, Director-man. How are you this fine evening?”

“It’s two o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep. You?”

“Lots of coffee. And a nap. Both were a bad idea.” Lee acknowledged. “How come you’re down here all alone?”

“I found out the paper had just arrived, came down to take a look. It was either this or go stir-crazy in my room.” Andy took a sip of the water he had sitting on a side table. “I chose this.”

“Understandable. Hey, I think they have some events going on tonight at the convention, want to take a look?” Lee suggested.

Andy folded the paper, rose, and stretched. “Sounds amusing. I was almost done with this.”

After about four minutes in the convention’s halls, Andy and Lee found themselves surrounded by a group of attendees that were on their way to ‘H Hall’. After getting photos and talking with the group, the actor and director wandered in the direction of ‘H Hall’.

There, they found fandom heaven. Dozens of people were strewn out on camping gear, some awake, some asleep, waiting for a panel.

“Oh, wow, you’re Andy Sirkis!” One fan, a young man just barely out of his teens, exclaimed. After checking that he wouldn’t ‘loose his spot’, he rushed forward. “Can I shake your hand? You’re incredible! That Gollum voice and all the work you did – I heard you went in a freezing stream in order to complete one scene – incredible!”

“I, ah, thank you.” Andy looked surprised. “This is Lee Pace, he’s playing Thranduil.” He motioned to the American actor. The fan beamed and shook Lee’s hand as well.

And so it went. The queue was apparently for the Hobbit panel early the next morning – the one Lee and Andy were supposed to be resting up for. Instead of sleeping, Lee and Andy took photos with anyone who wanted one. They gave out autographs and hugs, and at one point, Lee even inspected a sleeping bag, asking the owner where they’d gotten it. It was great fun, being out there with the fans.

When Lee and Andy finally returned to their hotel, having exhausted themselves, Lee changed into his pyjamas and slid into bed with Richard, curling up to the Englishman. He wrapped an arm around his Dwarf, mumbling “Mine.”

Richard smiled in his sleep, snuggling further with his American. “Yours.” He never truly did wake up.

 

***************************************************

 

The panel the next morning was a blast, though Andy and Lee barely got through it. Fortunately, Andy didn’t have to talk that much, and when the Dwarves started to harass the Elves, Orlando and Evangeline picked up the torch for Mirkwood.

All in all, they acted like a typical day on set.

Which is to say, like a bunch of children pretending to be mature.

Aidan had taken Peggy and Mary shopping that evening, and while the girls were refreshed and excited after their trip, Aidan looked like he’d been run over by a lorry. Dark circles were under his eyes and an air of doom surrounded him. When James had asked how the shopping trip went, Aidan responded with a polite but annoyed tone: “Next time, Dean takes them.” James had just laughed.The newly-minted Immortal had just learned that women and shopping means near-death experiences for the men who dare to go with them.

As the two Kings were getting ready for bed, Richard poked his head into the boys’ room, making sure they were fine. What he found instead was something dark and sharp that went flying by his head. “Oh, for the love of… I did not give you the throwing weapons to throw at each other! Just because you’re immortal, that doesn’t mean you should tempt the Fates!”

“It’s just in fun, and we need the practise in case someone else tries to kill us.” Dean protested. “We’re being careful. We haven’t damaged the room.” He pointed at the plywood target they’d been aiming at. Where they’d gotten the target, Richard didn’t want to know.

“Or each other?” Richard gave them a ‘look’.

“Or each other,” Aidan nodded. “Even if I did hurt him, I’d go over and kiss it and make it better.” He grinned cheekily. Dean shifted nervously and tried to hide a smile.

“Too much information,” Richard muttered, shutting the door between their rooms.

“What are they into now?” Lee asked from the couch, where he’d been trying to program Richard’s mobile to play a song from the animated version of The Hobbit. That ‘chip the glasses’ song was sort of catchy...

Richard took a seat on the couch next to Lee, taking his mobile away from his lover. “Everything. At least they haven’t killed each other, but then, they’re too fond of one another for that.”

“Is ‘fond of one another’ a British way of saying ‘attached at the hip’?” Lee asked conversationally. Richard grunted. “You tired?”

“Thinking.”

“About…?” Lee laid his head on Richard’s shoulder, cuddling up to his Englishman’s warmth.

“Something that’s been on my mind for a while,” Richard admitted. Lee wrapped his arm around Richard’s, pressing even closer. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet.” He gave Lee a sweet kiss. “So, what do those parenting books of yours say about children that throw weapons at each other?”

“Well, I haven’t come across that particular problem… but most of the books say that all children need to express themselves and find their talents, and that the parent should only monitor them during this time of creativity.” Lee suggested,

“Does monitor mean ‘allow them to kill one another’?” Richard raised an eyebrow, even if Lee couldn't see it.

“I don’t think it does,” Lee admitted. “You’re going to take the Batarangs away from them?”

Richard looked thoughtful for a moment. “No. They’re old enough to know better. If they wind up in hospital, that’s their fault. It’ll be between them and Peter.”

Lee smiled. Richard would be there, at the hospital, refusing to move until he was certain the two troublemakers would be fine. Hell, he hadn’t left the hospital when Ian was there, Lee didn’t want to think about what would happen if it was one of the boys were to get hurt. He didn’t remember a lot of the events of that night, but he was fairly certain he remembered Richard fussing over Aidan, Dean, Ian, and him... All while wearing handcuffs. “Yes, I know. You won’t care in the slightest.” That may have held more sarcasm than Lee meant for it to have.

“Lee?”

“Hm?”

“You indulge me too much,” Richard said, shifting his hand to caress Lee’s cheek.

“That's because I love you,” Lee said back. After a few moments, during which Richard very nearly dropped off to sleep on the couch, Lee asked. “Are we going with them to the zoo tomorrow?”

That surprised Richard. “Do you want to?”

“I want to sleep all day tomorrow, with you next to me.” Lee answered.

“Then we don’t go,” Richard decided. “But I doubt we’ll get much sleep.”

“You’re going to let them go alone?” Lee countered.

“Jimmy and Martin will be keeping an eye on them. And I’m sure the lads will be charged with watching the little ones, they’re fairly responsible when they’re told they have to look after someone.” Richard yawned. “You saw Aidan after he went shopping with the girls, they ran him ragged and he stuck with them. And Aidan can barely remember to water the plant Dean gave him. They at least try, when they're dealing with children.” He yawned again. “We should sleep.”

Lee mimicked his lover unintentionally, not bothering to cover his mouth like the Englishman had done. “We should. Come on, to bed.”

At that moment, the door between the Kings and the Princes rooms opened, and Aidan poked his head in. “Rich, you, ah, don’t have a plaster, do you?”

Lee groaned as the God rose to find something for whatever wound one of them had acquired. Richard laughed. “You realize Isaac’s going to be just as bad.” He handed a plaster (thank the Gods he was so meticulous about packing!) to Aidan, who thanked the King and dashed back into his bedroom. “Or worse.”

“I wasn’t thinking of Isaac,” Lee sighed, rising so they could head to the bedroom. “I was thinking about the fact that we have six or seven lifetimes dealing with those two.”

Richard wrinkled his nose, following Lee through the bedroom door and locking it behind them. “They’ll mature. Eventually.”

Lee didn’t look convinced.

 

************************

 

The next morning, the parents of The Hobbit’s cast took the children (including Aidan and Dean) to the San Diego zoo. Richard ordered room service and spent the entire morning with Lee. The Englishman’s lunch was spent in the hotel’s restaurant, along with both sets of parents.

He and Lee had packed their things early in the day, and were just finishing packing up Aidan and Dean’s belongings (which were all over the place, given Aidan’s messy nature and Dean’s jet lag) tidily into the suitcases when the zoo-goers returned. With barely enough time to make their flight, the entire mob of cast, crew, and family headed out to the airport

After loading the plane, another Air New Zealand specialty flight booked just for them, the excited ‘children’ showed off their prizes from the zoo. While Mary and Joe rattled on about the otters at the zoo, Dean showed Richard and Lee some of the sketches he’d done of an arctic fox and a polar bear. “Oh, and we have presents for you!” The Kiwi declared, putting away his sketchbook.

Aidan was already pulling two items out of a bag. He handed one to Dean, then unfolded the item and handed one to Richard. “Look!”

“It’s a… dressing gown?” Richard gave the item a confused look. “It’s a beige dressing gown.” Why on Earth had they felt the need to buy him a dressing gown? And worst of all, the rest of the cast and Gods were all watching. What was he supposed to do with this? “It’s a… very nice dressing gown?”

“Here, put it on!” Aidan insisted while Dean unfolded what looked to be a second – brown – dressing gown. The Irishman fussed at Richard, much to the amusement of the rest of the cast, until he had Richard in the dressing gown. “Look, there’s these pockets you can put over your hands, like this-“ He demonstrated, sticking the King’s hands into the pockets. The pockets had some sort of design on them… something like… paws? “And then there’s the hood!” Aidan pulled the hood over Richard’s head and grinned. “Perfect!”

Richard didn’t quite understand why pockets and a hood made the dressing gown so much better. But he did understand that Lee had taken out his mobile and was snapping photos. In fact, several people were. “Why are you doing that?”

Lee showed Richard the photo he’d taken. “You’re a little lion!” Indeed, the pockets made his hands look like a lion’s paws, and the hood had a mane and ears attached. He checked behind him – there was even a tail! “King Richard, the Lionhearted.”

Richard couldn’t help but laugh. The terrible two had done it again. The costumed dressing gown suited him fairly well, he had to admit. “Thank you, boys.” He gave each of them a hug.

“We’ve got one for Lee, too.” Dean said, holding up the brown piece of cloth.

When Lee donned his dressing gown, he made sure to put the hood and pockets on. “All right, what’s mine?” He asked, fiddling with his sash a bit.

Richard handed over his mobile to Dean. “Take a picture, please. I can’t work that thing.” He turned back to Lee. “You make a very nice elk.”

“Absolutely adorable elk,” Martin laughed, snapping even more photos with his mobile.

“Actually,” Dean fiddled with the camera on Richard’s mobile. “It’s a moose. They didn’t have an elk. I was hoping it would be close enough.”

Lee grinned. “It’s perfect.”

“We’ve got presents for everyone,” Dean smiled as he and Aidan handed out the rest – a few T-shirts, a few plush toys, and the like.

“I bought gifts, too. For everyone.” Richard piped in once the lads were done. He grabbed his spare bag and began handing the presents out. The children got their toys, Simon pretended to be surprised about his shirt, and Aidan accused him of having watched ‘Being Human’ when he gave the lad the Casablanca poster.

What did Casablanca have to do with a television show about vampires and werewolves and ghosts?

The last gift to go out was to Vi.

“My dear sister Vi,” Richard started, forgetting for a moment that there were others on the plane who weren’t Gods. Oh, well, they could think what they would. Too late to take it back now. “It has been wonderful to finally meet you. You gave Lee something priceless, although by accident, but it was still an incredible gift. You have unintentionally brought us all here, today, on this flight and in this project, all because you loved the book. Simon said you already have a first edition of it, but I don’t think you have these versions…”

The God of Fire, Forge, and Tribe pulled out a pair of books, bound in leather with gold accents. Real gold. One was bound in red leather, the other bound in brown. An opal graced the cover of the brown one, to symbolize the Arkenstone. The Hobbit, and The Lord of the Rings. The books were beautiful. Vi took them, hands shaking. “Richard… These are gorgeous. Thank you.” She reached out and hugged the King, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you, thank you.”

Vi eventually let Richard go, wiping her eyes. Lee shook his head. “Nothing for me? You’ll buy expensive presents for your sister, but nothing for me. I see how it is.” He teased.

Richard bit his lip. “I’m still thinking about yours.”

Lee tilted his head to the side, confused.

 

******************************************************

 

After their returned from San Diego, the entire cast took a day to just rest. Peter refused to answer his phone – even if it was Ian calling. The cast’s children and Benedict flew out the next day, and Vi, Diz, and Al were given their own trailers on the set. Diz’s belongings (those that didn’t fit in the trailer), were moved into Peter and Fran’s home.

As the Gods and actors settled back into their routine, with only a handful of weeks left in principal filming, Richard kept a very special trinket in his pocket wherever he went. He wasn’t sure he should even go ahead with his plan, and when he decided he was going to, he wasn’t sure of how to present it.

He talked to Mark about it.

Mark loved planning surprises, and he was absolutely perfect for this one.

The two Gods wound up sitting down for several evenings a row, planning the moment perfectly. Mark had a few ideas that Richard tossed, but other ideas were very good. Richard finished modifying the trinket and making another one to match. For the actual event, they had to enlist Peter’s help, and eventually Simon and Dean were brought in for the finishing touches. Mark told Evangeline of their plans, though he somehow forgot to tell Orlando.

Dwarves will be Dwarves.

 

*****************************************

 

Lee stood in full armor, blonde Elvish hair swaying slightly in manufactured wind. The look of sorrow on his face helped paint the scene, while Evangeline, dressed as Tauriel, mourned not far from him. “Because it was real,” The Elf-King explained, then looked away dramatically.

“Perfect! Great job! Let’s call it a night!” Peter called out across the soundstage.

“I can stop pretending I’m dead?” Aidan called out from his spot on the set. “Because my back is killing me!”

“No, you stay there. You behave better when you’re dead.” Evangeline joked, holding out a hand to help him up.

Lee laughed, ridding himself of some of the heavy armor. “Tauriel, stay away from the dead Dwarf. You might catch a beard, or something.”

Evangeline waltzed over to Lee, Dwarf in tow. “Oh, you’re no fun. Mean king, no cookie. Maybe I should just run away with the little Dwarf.”

“Dean may have an issue with that,” Lee pointed out. Aidan nodded in agreement.

Evangeline gave them a cheeky grin. “I have plans for him; and you too!” She put an arm around Aidan’s shoulder and another around Lee’s waist - she couldn’t reach his shoulder comfortably - and started to guide them towards the exit. “Come on, let’s go! Richard’s waiting!”

“Hey, what are we doing? Where are we going?” Aidan asked, looking confused.

Lee, on the other hand, wasn't sure it was such a good idea. Richard had been awfully distant with Lee and the lads lately, staying out late at Gods-knew-where, secretly talking to castmates. Every time Lee wanted to talk, Richard was suddenly ‘busy’. Lee tried to back out, but Evangeline gave him her doe-eyes look (not to be confused with Aidan’s puppy-eyes look), and he gave in, hating himself for being a sucker to his friend’s feminine wiles. Peter caught up with them on their way out.

The Director and Captain managed to drag the King and Archer to a specific soundstage, where the set had not been deconstructed in case they had to do pick-ups. It was just too large of a set to remove and re-set back up. Mirkwood.

Evangeline had no trouble picking her way through the manufactured forest, past the place where Aidan and Dean had nearly been killed, around the section where Bofur ‘lost’ his pouch, and into a clearing that was illuminated with yellow and gold light to give it a cheerful feeling. There, Ian, the other Gods, and Dean waited, cheerfully trying to roast sausages and marshmallows over a space heater (Fran had refused to let them have a campfire on the set and Vi had seconded the motion). The only non-God, non-Immortal there was Evangeline, but she didn’t seem too put out by it (then again, she didn’t know). The Elf-maiden took a seat next to Vi and asked for a few marshmallows, perfectly at ease with her castmates and friends. A single double-person tent had been set up, which was odd, given how many people were there. There was a cooler, but Simon was sitting on it, not letting anyone inside.

“It’s too cold right now for a regular camping trip,” Richard, who had stood when Lee had arrived, motioned to the set-up. He looked a bit shy, like he wasn’t sure of himself.

Lee laughed, still decked out as Thranduil. “This is perfect! Camping in Middle Earth!”

Richard broke out into a smile. “I thought it would be a nice surprise for you.” Lee hugged Richard, silently forgiving his lover for being so busy.

As he settled into a seat next to Dean, Aidan removed the hotter parts of his costume, looking annoyed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you can’t keep a secret, lad!” Mark called out.

“I keep them better than you lot do!” Aidan retaliated.

“He’s got a point,” Dean added. He was met with several glares. “Well, he does.” If Evangeline was confused by the exchange, she didn’t say so.

Lee found a set of his clothes in the tent and quickly changed out of his heavy costume, then settled down next to Richard around the… space heater, enjoying everyone’s company.

Stories were told, and Lee was delighted to find that they’d even gotten supplies for his s’mores, though he couldn’t burn the outside of the marshmallows like he wanted to. Ian told a few stories, but Aidan and Dean begged Richard for a ghost story. Richard chose a tale of two lovers: a man killed in battle, and the woman who waited for him to return… and still waits to this day.

Lee, sitting next to Richard, had a sad smile on his face. “She still loves him, even in death. Eternally.”

Damn, if there was ever a time…

“Lee?” Richard glanced at his lover.

"Yeah?”

“I love you, eternally.” Richard said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. Apparently, that was a cue of some sort, and Dean reached over to a bag and fished out a camera. Richard slid off his chair, onto one knee. He produced a pair of trinkets from his pocket. Two rings. One had an inscription of Dwarvish runes on the outside, with a language Lee couldn’t recognize on the inside. The second ring had Elvish on the outside, and an English verse on the inside: ‘I love you, until the end of time’. “Lee Pace, will you marry me?”

Lee’s world narrowed to the rings in Richard’s hand. “You… you’re serious?”

“I wouldn’t have made the rings if I wasn’t,” Richard said solemnly.

Lee’s heart skipped a beat. That’s why his Forge God been so busy lately! Richard had always been more serious about relationships than Lee, and he always tried so hard to impress. “Rich… I…” Lee started. Richard swallowed nervously.

Around the campsite, there was absolute silence. Dean stood, camera in hand, waiting for the answer. Aidan was watching, wide eyed and fidgeting in his seat. Ian leaned forward in his chair, while Evangeline and Vi grasped each other’s hands and waited. Lee didn’t see any of that. All he saw was Richard.

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you.” Lee stood from his seat, pulling Richard up to match. Richard just barely managed to get his hands to stop shaking to put the Elvish/English ring on Lee’s finger, though Lee’s hands were steady as he slid the Dwarven ring onto Richard’s. Lee slid his arms around Richard into a bear hug, tears in his eyes. Richard was smiling so hard his was sure his face would crack.

Dean’s camera flashed repeatedly and rapidly. Aidan jumped out of his chair and bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, trying not to tug at Dean so the Kiwi could get the shots he wanted, and excitedly telling everyone that they had a new stepfather. Evangeline cheered and Peter and Fran gave each other glancing looks and hugged. Ian leaned back in his chair, smiling like he’d won the lottery. Simon and Martin were diving in the cooler while pulling out bottles.

“This is now officially an engagement party!” Simon declared. “Champagne, wine, and sparkling grape juice for everyone! My own special blends!” James ‘retrieved’ a set of champagne and wine glasses from the tent (which Lee was sure weren’t there before).

Laughter and alcohol flowed relatively freely. The joy never diminished and the bottles never seemed to get any emptier as the evening progressed. Diz produced a pan flute from nowhere (thankfully Evangeline didn’t notice), and played a series of happy melodies for everyone to dance to. The entire time, Lee and Richard found themselves unable to let go of one another for even one second. Late into the night, Ian started to yawn, and everyone made their excuses, leaving the lovebirds alone in their Mirkwood campsite.

“This has been… wonderful. You indulge me too much, but I love it.” Lee smiled, tugging Richard towards the tent.

“I love you, that’s why I indulge you.” Richard smiled back. They climbed into the tent and closed it up. They spent the rest of the night together, in the Mirkwood forest, under the (fake) moon, with no distractions but each other.

 

************************************************

 

The next day, during which Richard and Lee were conspicuously absent, Ian dragged Dean and Aidan to his trailer for a lesson. This time, it wasn’t about stories, but about the nature of being an Immortal.

“Let me get this straight – death HURTS, you have no idea where we’re going to be reborn, and we still have to go through growing up again.” Aidan summed up as he lounged on Ian’s sofa, wrapped up in a warm blanket and his head on Dean’s lap. It was a wonder he hadn’t fallen asleep.

Ian nodded. “Yes. You’ll most likely be born in the area you were born this time or where the Apple has been – which is only Wellington and San Diego, thankfully. There is also the chance that you’ll be reborn into your own bloodline – that’s how we Greeks started out, thousands of years ago. Unfortunately, bloodlines can be extensive… Give it two or three generations and your descendants could be anywhere. If you have children, of course.” Ian acknowledged. “Also, you have to tell us if anything strange starts happening around you.”

“You mean like this entire project?” Dean asked.

“That doesn’t count,” Ian said quickly.

“And we’re supposed to meet up with you Greeks as soon as we can,” Aidan continued, seemingly oblivious to the conversation around him.

“Yes. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but it may be more difficult to meet up. Remember the names. Lots of names. We’ve discussed making Stone Street Studios a new base of operations, but it’s too far away from the rest of the world, even in this digital age. Perhaps we’ll find a good place to call ‘home’ again.” Ian looked wistful.

“I vote for New Zealand,” Dean said.

“I vote for Ireland,” Aidan said.

“My vote happens to be for the Bahamas,” Ian said. “Most of the others are talking about England, though. Perhaps the Old Vic Theatre…” He leaned back in his chair and was quiet for a few moments. Aidan and Dean were sure he had drifted off, and collected their things in order to leave. Just before they got to the door, Ian asked. “Speaking of… coming together… have either of you talked to Vi lately?” He didn’t say anything further, despite Dean answering ‘no’.

As they exited Ian’s trailer, the lads took his words to heart and stopped by Vi’s trailer. “Hello,” Dean waved when Vi opened the door. “How’re you?”

“All right,” Vi looked a tad confused about the visit. “How about you two?”

“We’re fine. We were just talking to your Dad, thought we’d stop by.” Aidan explained. “Can we come in? It’s a bit chilly out here.”

Vi let them in, and they were surprised at the interior. Every inch of space had been regimented into usefulness. Bookshelves were wherever she could place them, all overstuffed with different titles. A toy chariot graced the coffee table, though it was overshadowed by yet another stack of books next to it.

“Do you have enough books in here?” Dean asked, looking around.

Vi glanced at the shelves. “Probably not. I had to leave the entire botany collection at home in America.”

“Really?” Aidan asked, obviously surprised.

Vi chuckled. “No. I’m joking. Do you really think all I do is study?”

“Well, yeah, sort of.” Aidan admitted. Dean nudged him. “Sorry.”

Vi motioned to the couch and took a seat in one of the chairs. “It’s all right. So, what brings you to my humble abode?”

Dean took a seat, followed by Aidan. “We just wanted to say ‘hello’. And thank you for the Apple.”

The Goddess frowned for half a second, glancing at the hallway, but recovered. “You’re welcome. Al’s still mad at me over it, but give him a decade and he’ll be fine. Plus, who else would we have used that Apple on? Did you want any tea, or anything?”

Aidan frowned. “You’re… American, right?”

“Yes,” Vi nodded.

“Well… thank you but no thank you,” Aidan said.

“Are you saying Americans can’t make tea?” Vi asked, mock scowling. “Tea snob.”

“Absolutely,” Aidan nodded.

Vi laughed. “You’re probably right, I don't think we can make tea that doesn't come in a bag.” She admitted.

A ‘thump’ from the hallway was heard, followed by a figured making its way slowly into the kitchenette. Carson wandered in, his hair disheveled and wearing his uniform shirt and… boxers. “I can’t find my pants.”

“Did you try the closet?” Vi asked, not looking surprised in the slightest.

“Oh, right…” Carson wandered back to the bedroom.

Aidan and Dean’s mouths were both hanging open. “Uh… when did THAT start?” Aidan managed to say, pointing towards the bedroom.

“Hm? Oh, Ryan sleeping over? That’s new; he couldn’t do that when I was at the apartment with Diz and Al. They're too protective.” Vi shrugged.

“He has a first name?” Dean looked surprised. Carson had never given them any name but, well, ‘Carson’. “When did you learn his first name?”

“When we started dating a while back,” Vi looked thoughtful for a moment. “Just after you filmed the scene on the shore of the lake.”

“You’ve been dating for that long and you didn’t tell anybody?” Dean looked incredulous.

Vi gave him a ‘look’. “Have you met Diz and Al? They threatened you because you were too close. What do you think they’d do if they knew I was dating with someone they didn’t approve of? My entire family loves setting me up with various men all the time, and it gets tiring.”

“Yeah, they tried to set us up with you. I mean, your… special brothers, not Diz and Al.” Aidan admitted.

Vi laughed. “Seriously? Who tried that? Let me guess: Dad picked you…” she pointed at Aidan. “And Herc picked you.” She pointed at Dean.

Before they could answer, Carson wandered back, sliding his coat on. “I’ll see you after my shift, all right? I’ve got patrol tonight, it shouldn’t be too bad.” He leaned down and gave Vi a quick peck on the cheek, then pulled a pair of knitted fingerless gloves out of his pocket and slid them on. “Thanks for the handwarmers, they’ve been a lifesaver lately.”

“Be safe, no crazy stunts.” Vi insisted. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Carson smiled. To Aidan and Dean, the security captain said: “You two look after her for me, will you? And whatever you do, don’t ask about her favourite comic character. Trust me, you don’t want to hear her argument on the pro’s and con’s of each one.” He gave Vi another peck on the cheek and left, humming to himself.

Aidan blinked. The security guard was… awfully confident in his relationship with Vi, given that he’d just left his girlfriend with two very attractive actors. Aidan and Dean looked at each other. “So, uhm, yeah…”

 

**************

 

Graham was going through his third cup of tea as he sat with Al, they’d been talking over what to do about Akidia and Hypnos. Al was advocating for some sort of rehabilitation, but Graham wasn’t sure it was feasible. The argument was going nowhere.

“Hey, Graham? Buddy? Pal?” Aidan’s voice floated through the Scotsman’s trailer as the door opened just a crack. “You know we love you, right?”

“What have you two done this time?” Graham grunted from his kitchen table. The lad had no idea that he was a welcome distraction.

“Is it safe to come in?” Aidan asked.

Al rubbed his eyes. “Only if you’re not afraid of me.”

Aidan opened the door fully and stepped in, Dean right behind him. The Irishman looked like a bundle of energy, nervously making sure the door was shut tight – twice. Dean looked… a little upset, quietly moving into the living area. “Evening Prometheus, Atlas.” Aidan said, trying to look calm and collected. It wasn’t working.

“Evening. We were just talking about Adikia and Hypnos. What do you two need?” Al asked.

“A favor,” Aidan explained. Graham glanced at Dean – the Kiwi was being awfully quiet, standing behind Aidan and looking uncomfortable. “We need you to tell Ian something for us.”

Graham looked interested. “And what am I telling him?”

“Well…” Aidan bit his lip. “Vi-apparently-has-a-boyfriend-and-it’s-not-one-of-us-actually-it’s-Carson-and-you-get-to-tell-Ian.” His Irish accent was back full-force.

Graham frowned. “What?”

“Vi is dating Carson, and we’re not telling Ian.” Dean said from behind Aidan.

“Carson?” Al looked surprised. “She’s not dating Carson, she would’ve told us.”

Graham sighed. If their stories were to be believed, Atlas and Pan hadn’t been as bad at being overprotective as Apollo, Hermes, and Dionysus. They’d been worse. Pan said he’d tried to set Athena up on dates that never worked, and Atlas had scared off any suitors that she did like, afraid they’d break her heart. He could believe that she wouldn’t have told them. “You never know, lad, maybe she didn’t want you upset that she was dating your boss?”

Al looked thoughtful for a moment, then put his head on the table. “She does things like this to torture us, I just know it.”

Graham nudged his brother, making the young man sit up. “Come along, let’s go talk to Ian.”

While putting on his coat, Graham gave Dean a sideways look. “Ye feeling all right, lad?”

“Hm?” Dean had obviously been lost in thought. “I’m fine.”

“That’s the Kiwi in you talking,” Graham frowned. “Liars, all of ye. When it comes to personal problems, anyway. Start talking.”

Dean glanced around the room, at the lamp, at the table, anywhere but Graham. “It’s all very abrupt. We were so ready for this huge adventure, so nervous about it and… it’s like ‘nevermind, we didn’t need you anyway’.” He reached down and petted Dapple, who’d started to cry for attention. The kitten was getting big. “Sort of disappointing.”

The older actor smiled slightly. “Ye don’t realize the impact ye’ve had, little one.” He said quietly. Louder, he said “I think Vi knew you two were together.”

Al nodded, having finally located his own coat. “She talked about you two a lot, why do you think we hated you? She said that you,” he pointed at Dean “were handsome. And that you,” he pointed to Aidan “were cute. Repeatedly. It was enough to drive us insane. But she said that you two were extremely close, and too famous to actually give her any attention.”

“Come along, lads, I’m not leaving yeh in here alone to make a mess.” Graham ushered all three young men out, locking his trailer behind him.

As he caught up to Atlas, Graham absently thought about Vi and Carson. Well, Peter had asked Carson to come to Wellington… and the security guard was well-liked by the rest of the Gods..

 

***********************

 

The last scene the Dwarves filmed together was a pick-up. The Dwarves all stood on the rock outcropping of The Outlook, having just been ‘deposited’ there by the Eagles. As Peter called for one last shot, just for ‘extra luck’. The Gods grinned amongst themselves, they’d been planning this.

As Thorin reached down to give Bilbo a hug, stating “I have never been so wrong,” the rest of the Dwarves rushed forward, all cheerfully hugging their Hobbit. Martin, who had driven them all to distraction by flipping off the cameras, swearing whenever he thought it would be humorous, making faces, and in general just making them laugh – they all loved him for it. Even Peter had rushed out of his directing tent, joining the group hug.

Fran watched off to the side, tears in her eyes. There was still some principal filming to be done, mostly single-shots, and pick-ups would occur over time, but this felt like the end. The end of the glorious dream. Yes, Peter had worked too hard, putting himself in hospital, but they’d all been together as a family. A strange family that loved annoying each other, but still, a family. And now, everyone would be flying back to their homes – some in the U.K., some in Australia, and some in America. She honestly didn’t want it to end, but life had to move on. They did have time, so very much time, to spend together in the future. She wiped her eyes dry and called out “All right, you lot! We’ve got a surprise for all of you!”

Most of the Dwarves ‘had something’ in their eyes as they followed Fran to a small area that had been set aside. Boxes had been stacked onto a table, all wrapped up in fancy paper. It had been difficult, to get everything set up, but Fran was sure it was worth it. There were all sorts of sizes of boxes, from the enormous one on the floor to a set of identical packages that were all just barely large enough to hold a battery.

The actors removed their arm prosthetics and parts of their costume, letting the muscle suits fall at their waists. They all seemed grateful to be nice and cool again. Aidan produced his pink and yellow hair clips from a pocket and kept his ‘Kili’ hair in check with them.

Cake and ice cream were delivered, and Richard definitely ate more than his fair share of the cold treat – he had a secret penchant for chocolate ice cream. The Elves showed up, more interested in the sweets than the party. The first set of gifts were handed out: the ‘battle’ versions of the weaponry each Dwarf used. Dean was ecstatic to receive his dual swords, and Aidan literally hugged his bow. Richard couldn’t stop grinning when his box revealed Orcrist, like a small child who’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted for Christmas. They were given the backings of their chairs, with their ‘movie names’ gorgeously embroidered on them. They finally got to the tiny boxes, which included little Lego figurines of each Dwarf.

After they all took photos with their plastic miniatures, there were a few more boxes to go around. Martin received Bilbo’s patchwork dressing gown, the King and Princes received copies of the rings they wore – sized for their human fingers, and other various trinkets from the set were given out.

Adam had just finished inspecting his ‘book and quill’ props, when he noticed one box hadn’t been touched. “Who’s that for? And why does it have holes?”

The Gods grinned at each other. “Well, we think that someone needs something to cheer him up a bit.” Peter explained.

Graham took the enormous box and scooted it along the floor, right to Dean. The box made a strange ‘thump’ sound. “Here you are.”

Dean gave the Scotsman a curious look and opened the lid. “Wait, are you serious?” He looked at Graham, then at the Gods in the cast.

“Designed to be something to cheer you up when you and your Irishman can’t be together,” Mark explained.

“And something easy to handle,” Martin added. “Very mellow.”

“And loving!” James added. “Had to be loving!”

“Which is a tall order, but I think I managed it.” Graham finished.

Dean reached into the box and pulled out a squirming, fuzzy puppy. The blonde cuddled the creature like one would do with a small child, holding it close. The puppy wagged his tail and tried to lick Dean’s face, prosthetics and all. “He’s… perfect.” Dean smiled. Aidan reached over and rubbed the pup’s head, talking nonsense at it.

“There’s one in there for you, too, Aidan.” James reached into the box and pulled out something soft. A giant plush Sheltie toy. “See, you get one, too. This one we don’t have to worry about you forgetting to feed it. And guess what, BOTH are safer than a motorbike!”

Dean showed the puppy to the rest of the cast, finally stopping at Richard. The Englishman cooed words like ‘Good dog’, and ‘darling’ at the pup. Lee wished he had his camera with him.

“What are you going to name him?” Aidan asked, wandering back up to Dean with his arms full of plush toy.

Dean stared down at the little thing. “I think I’ll name him… Batman!”

Aidan rolled his eyes. Only Dean could come up with something so nonsensical.

That night, as a pair of Princes got ready for bed in Dean’s trailer, Dean’s stomach churned. Little Batman was asleep in a laundry basket, having tuckered himself out by investigating every nook and cranny in the small home. Aidan pulled off his clothes, changing into pajama pants and a plain undershirt. Dean leaned against the doorframe, watching as the Irishman climbed into the warm bed.

“Are you going to join me?” Aidan asked, raising an eyebrow at the Kiwi. “It’s awfully cold in here without you.”

Dean swallowed visibly. “I think we need to talk. It’s been a busy couple of weeks, and, well, filming is ending soon.”

Aidan snuggled into the bed a bit, grabbing his stuffed Sheltie and hugging it. Of course. They were done filming, they lived in opposite hemispheres, and really, this had just been a fling for Dean. The only guy Aidan could ever see himself dating had a life of his own; and Aidan needed to understand that.

“You’ll be taking Batman, then?” Aidan asked dully.

“To Ireland? I hope so. I’ll have to make sure he gets all his shots, but I think he’ll like it there.” Dean said.

Aidan was confused. Why would Dean be going to Ireland? It must've shown on his face, because Dean walked over and kneeled on the foot of the bed. “I want to go visit your home, I’ve shown you mine. I want to meet your parents and your sister and try to figure out why you like haggis. I want Batman to come visit and chase the sheep around, and find out an Irish summer is like.” Dean looked down, a little nervous. “If… if that’s all right with you?”

Aidan set the stuffed toy aside and reached out to grab Dean’s shirt. He pulled the Kiwi, by the shirt, up to the head of the bed, and Dean wound up more or less on top of the curly-haired man. Aidan dropped tiny kisses all over the blonde’s face. “My parents are going to love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the definition of a "batarang" was added in simply because my editor gave me the strangest look when I tried to explain it. :)
> 
> Also, just in case it's not clear, the rings Richard had were made by him. He took the first one (with the English on the inside), and added the Elvish and sized it, then made the version for himself. At least he's getting some use out of being the new God of the Forge.


	25. The End and a New Begining

Epilogue

Lee and Richard had a quiet wedding, with a few close friends and family attending. Of course, Ian had wanted to invite every single God in the Greek pantheon, but Vi had made him tone the list down a select few. The Head of the Thrones of Olympus offered his home in England for the ceremony and as a place for most of the guests to stay, particularly for Mr. Malcolm and little Isaac. Isaac discovered he had a playmate in Lee’s nephews and nieces, and happily spent the afternoon playing with them instead of paying attention to the ceremony.

Isaac’s father passed away that year, and Richard and Lee took custody. They agreed that stability was best, and staying in New York on the farm Lee had purchased would be a good idea with a young God in the family. The boy was delighted in the sheer amount of space he could dig in, and there were apparently more than a few ghosts wandering around. It was heaven for the God of the Underworld, all except for the fact that Richard’s tracking ability apparently worked while he was invisible.

Aidan had gone back to Ireland for the summer there, taking Dean with him on a whirlwind visit. Aidan’s parents had been very welcoming to the Kiwi, and especially welcoming to Batman. Aidan was very proud of his homeland, and took Dean to see all sorts of places that Dean happily photographed. He took more photos of Aidan than the scenery, though. They finally returned to New Zealand when the leaves in Ireland started to turn red, along with a good portion of Aidan’s belongings.

Adikia and Hypnos had been placed into a private mental institution, where they received treatment and were visited by the other Gods on a regular basis. Hypnos had responded to treatment quickly, but Adikia was still having some issues. Vi was proud that her father was at least trying – it had taken quite some time to convince Zeus that perhaps reaching out would be a good idea – not only logically, but also for future tactics. Of course, the whole thing had been Al and Diz’s idea – having been separated from the rest of the Gods for so long meant that they had a very different view of the fight between the factions.

It wasn’t until the New Zealand premiere of ‘An Unexpected Journey’ that the cast reunited.

“Isaac, the bowtie is not going to kill you.” Richard insisted, adjusting the boy’s tie for the third time. “Stop trying to take it off.”

“Do I hafta go?” The child asked, looking annoyed. “I’m not even in this movie!”

“Ian will be very happy to see you,” Lee explained as he adjusted his own bowtie. “You’ll get to walk with Auntie Vi, it’ll be fun!”

“She’s my niece, not my auntie.” Isaac crossed his arms.

Richard sighed. “You’re right… but let’s call her Auntie.”

“But I wanna walk with you and Daddy Lee!”

“We have to work, there will be lots of grown-ups talking about boring things. You and Auntie Vi can go get our seats for us, make sure nobody takes them, and we’ll meet you there.” Lee promised. Isaac seemed to think that task was suitable for a miniature God.

Aidan poked his head into Richard’s room. “Hey, Deano’s got this bottle of wine, stuff is great. Care for a nip before we head out?”

“You just want alcohol,” Richard accused.

“Yes,” Aidan nodded. “It’s my first big premiere, and I’m scared half to death. Come on.” He waved at the actors to come with him.

Waiting In Aidan and Dean’s room, Ian and Martin already had a glass of wine each, waiting for Richard and Lee to arrive. Dean had already poured glasses for their Kings, and juice for Isaac.

Ian led the toast. “May we never forget each other, no matter where we are in the world.” Everyone could raise a glass to that.

“And may the film not suck!” Martin added.

Laughter abounded as they clinked their glasses.


End file.
